I Miss My Mind the Most
by OctoberProject
Summary: The Doctor and Rose stop in to drop off a Bezulium and do laundry. There, they find out that Jackie is seeing ghosts. More specifically, she's seeing the ghost of Uncle Mortimer, whose house in Wales she's inherited. Pre-Doomsday AU.
1. Here There Be Ghosts

_A/N: This is **Jessa L'Rynn** welcoming you to our little project. One chapter per day (except Mondays) will be uploaded by a member of our team. My fellow authors are **SilverWolf7, Kathryn Shadow, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, **and** NewDrWhoFan**. We hope you enjoy our work!_

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**I Miss My Mind the Most**

_**Chapter 1: Here There Be Ghosts**_

"The house stood by itself against the Welsh moorland. It had stood for thirty years, and might stand for thirty more. Inside, everything was rubbish, but could possibly be fixed by someone extremely clever. And whatever walks there, walks alone."

"Do you mind?" snapped Jackie, turning to glower at the Doctor, who was, of course, smirking. "Honestly, you're going to annoy Uncle Mortimer." Jackie stalked away from the TARDIS and up the gravel drive, ignoring the Time Lord, and her child with him.

"And you think this is good for her condition, do you?" complained Rose. "Misquoting Shirley Jackson at her, I mean?"

The Doctor spun in surprise, then snatched his young companion up and hugged her tightly. "Rose, you recognized it. Aw, brilliant."

"Put me down," Rose insisted.

The Doctor shook his head and buried it further into Rose's hair. "Won't," he said, petulantly. He was having a very bad day, for a wide variety of reasons, and Rose's hugs were a very good cure for that sort of thing.

They'd just come to visit Jackie for a day or so, give her the bezulium Rose had picked up for her, tell her some stories, drink some tea, do some laundry. Instead, they had spent the day watching Jackie bully some very large movers and also ogle their arses. The Doctor had gotten snogged and, he suspected, ogled as well, and frankly, if he were going to be snogged and ogled by Tylers, there were easily a hundred Tylers higher on the list of acceptable snog-ogler than Jackie.

Following the rather disgusting beginning to the visit, and over a cup of tea while Jackie rudely ordered the movers around, things had gone from as bad as they could possibly get to worse than that. It was an unusual thing to happen for them when there were no aliens involved but, in this instance, the aliens were conspicuous in their absence. (That excluded the Doctor, of course, but he wasn't so much an alien as a naturalized refugee. The bloke driving for the movers was also an alien, but only in the sense that he'd come from another planet and had tentacles. In all other instances, he could easily be mistaken for any other human service transportation driver, at least any one who had learned the theory of driving from a cabbie in lower Manhattan.)

It turned out Jackie had inherited a house and a small fortune to pay for the upkeep of the house. She'd also inherited two cats, the rest of the contents of the house, the two acres the house sat on, and any other such nonsense appertaining thereunto.

Oh, and she'd lost her mind, but wasn't that just like her?

The Doctor had had such wonderful plans for this visit, and now they were all scrapped. He was absolutely certain that the Universe hated him and was gifting him a mad Jackie Tyler as proof of its utter disdain.

The best in-law is a green turf. He'd been told that before, and wasn't it just the truth? Not that Jackie was _actually_ his in-law, just his companion's mother, and she never would be his in-law.

Not at this rate, anyway.

He reluctantly set Rose down on her feet and sighed, fingering the box in his pocket. He was really going to have to watch this because he was sure, if there was anything Jackie couldn't handle in her current fragile mental state, it was an alien courting her daughter.

Not that he would have, not really. It wasn't like...

Yes, it was, and there was really no good denying it. Rose had said she would stay forever. It was time she knew that he would stay forever, too.

Even if they had very different definitions of forever, he wasn't going to get out of it by ignoring it and hoping it would go away. That hadn't worked with the attraction at Henrick's Department Store and it wasn't likely to start working now when attraction was just a member of a long list of words that added up to an emotional cataclysm the size of the Universe. Or just four small letters, they covered it, too.

He took Rose's hand. "We'll do this, Rose. I promise you, I will find a way to make your mother better."

Rose looked up at him with trust, with confidence, and the worry in her soft, dark eyes made him want to change time and prevent this from ever having happened. "I know you will, Doctor," she said softly, and leaned into him. "I'll just... I'll go make sure she's not playing with the appliances or something."

He nodded, and looked at the TARDIS behind him. "I'd better find some place safe to put Her. This isn't exactly the best part of the country to have an alien spaceship just sitting around."

Rose smiled and nodded and went to follow her mother into the house. The Doctor watched her, the sunlight streaming down on her hair, the way her beauty dimmed even that of the golden roses that had completely taken over the guardrail of the porch. It was a very nice porch. It had a swing.

Still, he had other things he had to do. The TARDIS had to be stowed and quieted because Wales meant Cardiff and Cardiff meant certain people whose company he wasn't capable of enduring. There was a large workshop and garage off to the side of the house, and Jackie had assured him that it was his for the asking.

He moved the TARDIS and while he did, he called up the surreptitious scans he'd asked Her to take of Jackie while they traveled. (And hadn't that just been a hoot? "Just get in the TARDIS, Mum, the Doctor'll take us there." And Jackie's rejoinder: "If we end up on Mars, I'll kill you.") His sonic screwdriver hadn't found anything, so he'd set the entire power of a Space/Time ship with a mind of Her own and the ability to outsmart even him to having a look at everything that made Jackie Tyler tick.

He really could have taken them to a 62nd century psychiatric hospital and let them have a go at her. They had some of the very best treatment for the mentally ill in all of the surrounding twelve galaxies. The truth was, although he would use the rest of his regenerations denying it, no one was going to mess with the wonderfully difficult mind of someone he loved as much as Jackie Tyler (which he would also deny, with his last breath if he had to do) without him knowing exactly what they were doing every single second.

That left only one option. While Jackie Tyler was happily moving into her new house, and chattering animatedly to the ghost of the deceased great-Uncle who had left her the place, the Doctor and Rose were going to stay with her, watch over her, care for her, for however long it took.

* * *

Rose watched her mum as she opened up cupboards and peered into them with fascinated eyes. Rose had to admit it was interesting to see what had been left behind in this house. It was a small, place, really, although much bigger than her Mum's old flat, but every single square inch of space in the place seemed to be taken up with some collection or other.

Reminded Rose of the TARDIS, really.

At the moment, it was dishes. Jackie pulled down a small tea cup with a delicate little pattern of ribbons and blue birds. Uncle Mortimer had exquisite, if eclectic, taste. Mind, if her mum would stop complimenting him every time she found something particularly beautiful, Rose would feel a lot better.

"Don't s'pose Uncle Mortimer could help me with this box?" Rose complained quietly.

"Don't be silly, Rose," said Jackie. "Ghosts can't carry things. Just put it on the table."

Rose sighed and set the box down, and wondered which Viking museum the table had been stolen out of. It was gorgeous, but really the largest table Rose had seen in a modern house. Not that this house was exactly modern. It had all the amenities, sure, but the carpet had barely escaped the seventies with its life, and the paint had obviously not been changed once since the place was built.

It was, really, the most frightening day of Rose's life, and that was saying something, considering that the Doctor's hobbies ranged from explosives to inciting riots to picking major interplanetary wars with people who annoyed him (which was just about everyone who didn't see things his way) to arranging to get himself the highest listing on the pan-Galactic "Most Wanted" lists and the lists of every planet in between. Even considering that her major goal in life was to follow him until she couldn't move any more.

It had been so nice to start with, today. For some unknowable reason, the Doctor had brought her breakfast in bed, and fed her strawberries and chocolate from a delicate crystal plate. He'd told her stories about the most beautiful planets he could remember, places that he vowed to take her within the next few weeks. He'd described beautiful people and beautiful ceremonies and parties and occasions, and sworn he would take her to these places, where he devoutly attested he would be the envy of all.

He'd even, quite voluntarily, without her even suggesting it, set the coordinates for the Powell Estate. Said he _wanted_ to talk to her mother. And never once, during all of this, had he taken those dark, burning, melt-me eyes off of her.

Between bouts of giddiness and an astonishing inability to breathe, Rose had wondered if maybe, just maybe...

But it was not to be. They'd arrived at the Estate to give Jackie her present, and found that Jackie had a surprise for them, too. Then, she'd very cheerfully announced that a ghost was coming to tea.

Rose had known, then, while Jackie happily conversed with a patch of empty air, that her days of bouncing through the stars were over. Her mother had gone very dreadfully mad, and she would have to stay with her and tend to her the rest of Jackie's life.

With a sinking, dreadful, horrific feeling, she'd looked at the Doctor, ready to send him off to find someone else to take to parties and ceremonies and occasions. Well, as ready as someone who was certain that bits of her were dying with every breath could ever be.

And the Doctor had wrapped her in a warm, tender, loving embrace, and then he'd asked Jackie if they both could come along to her new house and stay with her. Just 'til she got settled in, he said, quietly running the sonic screwdriver over her mother the whole time.

Rose had known before that he loved her, but right up until that moment, she'd never really been sure how much was love and how much was just hyperactive adrenaline-based affection for the girl who got into scrapes with him and always helped to get him out.

But the Doctor had agreed to stay, to do the "domestic" thing, to try to help. And he'd promised her six times today that he would do it, that he could do it.

Rose had never loved him more than she did right now.

* * *

Jackie had been astounded to find out that her estranged great-Uncle Mortimer had left her his house in his will. She understood it, though, the instant she saw the house, a few weeks ago. The vast lawn was dotted with an impossible variety of rose bushes. Given her only child's name, Uncle must have believed he and Jackie shared an affinity for the plant. Unfortunately, having always lived in London Council housing, this was the closest Jackie had ever been to a rose bush in her entire life.

She'd had a group of rent-a-maids come in and clean the place, at least rid it of dust and cat hair and change the sheets on the beds, but there was now a fine layer of white and black cat hair all over everything again. This was because of Diabla and Lovey, who were the spoiled ladies of the manor - an oreo cat and a tuxedo cat, one of whom was the most precious little cat you could imagine. The other, Lovey, oddly enough, was evil, incarnate.

She watched the Doctor and Rose out of the corner of her eye. It was absolutely imperative that they not escape her and go gallivanting across the cosmos again (or where ever the hell it was they went). There was more than a million pounds at stake, Rose's portion of the inheritance. Unfortunately, Rose could only claim it on the event of her marriage, and she only had until she was twenty-five to do it, or it all went to the RSPCA.

Rose and her alien lover were all the time claiming they traveled all over the universe, but Jackie was almost convinced they just had a flat in Glasgow and didn't want anyone to know. And, all right, so that box of his was bigger on the inside, it flew around, and it did tend to appear out of no where, but that didn't mean he could actually do anything useful with it.

Still, Jackie had come to terms with the fact that there was no getting rid of him. He had even changed his face and Rose still walked into his blue box with him, laughing and hugging and god-knew-what-else, all the way. Still, he was better looking this time, more her daughter's own age, even if he still hadn't gotten a proper name.

Hum. Maybe she could fix that as part of the plan.

The suits (solicitors and lawyers and one over-weight accountant) had assured her that as long as the man was breathing and competent to sign legal paperwork, he counted. So Jackie had known right then and there what she had to do.

It was time for the Doctor to make a respectable woman out of Rose and Jackie knew that would never happen if they were allowed to continue with their mad gallivanting. But how in the hell did you keep two people who acted like ping-pong balls in a room full of mousetraps in one place?

Then, she'd come up with the plan, and it was brilliant, even if she did say so. If the plan chased off the Doctor, they could find Rose a decent suitor in the next two years and, if it didn't, well, he would just have to step up and do the right thing.

Jackie had the slap and tantrum all ready. The very instant she caught them in anything that resembled a compromising position, she was going to jerk them both straight to the nearest registry office.

The Doctor moved to the overstuffed leather recliner, a large volume from Uncle's vast bookcases in hand. Rose was collapsed dejectedly on the sofa. "No you don't," snapped Jackie. "That's Uncle Mortimer's chair. Pay attention. Go over there and sit with Rose."

The Doctor nodded apologetically - wasn't he precious - and slumped onto the sofa, sprawling out, his long legs inhibited slightly by a small coffee table.

"I'm so sorry, Uncle," Jackie told the chair fondly. "Just ignore the alien. He's harmless."

"I most certainly am not," the Doctor muttered, and Rose patted his arm sympathetically.

Jackie grinned. "Now, I think it's time we discuss where everyone's sleeping. I think I want that front room. It's got such lovely light in the morning. Rose, you can have this little bedroom just off the hallway here, and Doctor, I'll let you share the Master bedroom with Uncle Mortimer."

"No, it's all right, Jackie," the Doctor said. "Let Rose have the large room. I don't have to sleep and if I do, I have a room in the TARDIS."

"Nonsense. You can't stay in my home and sleep in the garage, I'm not having it. No, you and Uncle Mortimer will get along just fine in there, I'm sure."

Rose sighed. "Think I'll stick to my room in the TARDIS," she said. "'Least it's got a window."

"Rose Marion Tyler, what an ungrateful thing to say," said Jackie. "And while I'm at it, how come you've got a window inside that box? Don't be daft, you'll sleep in a bed under my roof while you stay in my house."

The Doctor sighed. "I'll bring your window in for you," he offered. "It's just a tiny bit of tech, shouldn't set off anyone's alarms or anything."

"Are you worried?" Rose asked him, looking quite nervous.

"Nah," he said, grinning broadly. "Pfft, nah, no one's gonna know I'm here, it's fine."

Rose chewed her lip and then nodded and leaned into him to hug him. The Doctor wrapped an arm around her shoulders and smiled down at her, tenderness and possessiveness in his warm, dark gaze.

Jackie smirked quietly to herself. Perfect.

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	2. Empty Chairs At Tiny Tables

_Disclaimer: None of us own Doctor Who. We've searched under the sofa and behind the bookshelf and even in the freezer of every one of our houses. But, we couldn't find a single scrap of authenticated paperwork legitmizing our claim to what is still firmly held captive by the BBC. _

_A/N: This is **Olfactory-Ventriloquism **welcoming you to our little project. One chapter per day will be uploaded by a member of our team. My fellow authors are **SilverWolf7, Kathryn Shadow, The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, NewDrWhoFan, Isis the Sphinx** and **Jessa L'Rynn**. We hope you enjoy our work!_

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**_Chapter 2: Empty Chairs At Tiny Tables_**

That night, Jackie insisted they celebrate with a proper sit down. However, the kitchen was in a state of gross disrepair. So, she'd made a reservation for four at the most posh sounding restaurant she'd seen in the phone book.

"After all," She declared to her horrified daughter, "we can't leave out Uncle Mortimer just because he doesn't eat. I'm sure he'll enjoy the change in scenery even if the company is a little lacking." Jackie cast her critical eye on where the Doctor was slumped on the sofa, reading up on horticulture of all things.

"Anyway, love," Jackie continued before Rose could rush to his defense. "Best be ready by half-six and tell Himself it's black tie." She bustled off to find where her clothes had placed themselves, leaving her daughter to fend for herself with a silent alien

* * *

The Doctor stared blankly at what was possibly the most boring chapter ever written on pruning. He'd never known that such a vital task could be detailed in such a way that any knowledge-seeker unwise of unlucky enough to stray into these pages might start to consider falling on their hedge clippers to be an honorable escape. Fortunately, his eye captured and stored the information somewhat clumsily in the giant file of miscellany that comprised a large portion of his information base without consulting the conscious mind.

This was just as well, because the conscious mind had cleared some space and was pacing, angrily puzzling over tests that were inconclusive, scans that showed no anomaly. Even his frankly magnificent ship was unaware of what plagued Jackie Tyler.

He couldn't tell Rose. Something was there; it just hadn't presented itself yet. He would find it. He would fix it. And then, everything would be perfect: Rose would be happy, Jackie might agree to hear him out before slapping him, and he could return to the stars, a certain Tyler who was that the very top of his snog-ogle list at his side, forever.

Rose collapsed on the sofa next to him, curling into him for a cuddle, even as she opened a thin volume, her attention on the page before her. The Doctor happily abandoned the horrors of necessary gardening techniques to examine her choice. What he found raised an eyebrow.

"The Haunting of Hill House?" He questioned her, amused. She looked up at him and grinned, her tongue peeking at him, temptingly.

"Seemed fitting," she quipped. "You're the one who brought it up." There was something missing, though, and the Doctor realized that she was hiding her fears. From him. He wouldn't stand for it. He enveloped her securely in his arms and gave a lingering kiss to her forehead before meeting her eyes with sincerity and support and adoration.

"You _know,_" he began, "that if it's a choice between laughing and crying," He saw her breath catch. "You can choose to cry. I'll always be here." Tears formed as if on cue. She smiled and shook her head.

"It's not that I don't trust that we can fix this. That you can fix this. It's just…Mum just booked a reservation for four. It's kinda hard to take." The Doctor opened his mouth to…reassure her? Reassure him? But Rose shook her head and silenced him. "I know. I _know_ you'll make this right." She smiled at him, a move that forced a tear to roll down her cheek. "I just don't know how…if I can deal with it until then."

The Doctor tightened his grip, completely unable to formulate a sentence that would help. He blamed this on the book on lawn maintenance. So he hugged her, an attempt at reminding her of her own strength.

And then it occurred to him. This is what he always did, hide from any emotional complications, silence them. Even if, while Jackie was in this condition, he couldn't actively woo her daughter, that didn't mean he couldn't let this brilliant human know how wonderful she was. Vocalize it for once.

"Rose Tyler, you can do anything. You've saved the last of the Time Lords. You've shown the last Dalek what it is to be human. You stood up for Earth when there was no one else to do so. And you know what? Even though you could do this all on your own, you don't have to. In fact, I won't let you."

He saw Rose blush and wondered if maybe he had said too much, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head in his shoulder. She may have whispered "Thank you" into his jacket. His Rose-addled senses suggested that it might have been "Love you" instead; it was hard to be sure.

He was content to lounge like that for some moments until a small, minute really, phrase held a switch blade to his neck.

"Did you say your mum made a reservation?"

* * *

Rose spent a considerable amount of time in the wardrobe room. Ostensibly, she was choosing a dress, but it took only moments for her to find the dress she wanted, after that she was just playing dress up. A psychiatrist might say she was reverting to a simpler time by reenacting the game she had played as a child, but that psychiatrist was wrong. What Rose was doing had nothing to do with being a child, and everything with her life as an adult. The TARDIS whisked out clothes that reminded Rose of where she'd been and listened with a comforting hum as Rose explained what was happening. If the Doctor had known, she told the TARDIS he would probably think she was being silly, but the TARDIS had objected to that and had presented Rose with the idea that he would be grateful that "the old girl was being kept in the loop." Rose smiled and pulled the dress she intended for the evening off the rack and hurrying back into the house.

She stepped from her windowless room in an ankle-length, sleeveless wine-red satin dress. The neckline was a wide scoop that barely went past her collarbone. It clung attractively without seeming to diminish her range of motion as she bent over to straighten a strap of her heel, and Rose didn't miss how the Doctor's jaw went slack at the sight he was afforded. Her hair was pulled up and away from her face, but then allowed to tumble as it willed. The back was bare down to the point that it flirted heavily with indecency. And as she glanced up through wisps of hair, she saw him trace the line of her spine down, and linger where the fabric cut short his perusal. She smiled inwardly. It served him right for wearing that tuxedo that made her want to remove it with her teeth.

"Would you mind?" She asked, standing and holding out a simple silver chain on which she had restrung the TARDIS key. At his mute nod, she flashed him a smile and turned around, giving him full access to her back. The Doctor brushed his hands along the nape of her neck as he fastened the necklace, and she shivered. When finished, he allowed his fingers to skim the line of her spine as he lowered his arms. She turned to face him and his hand settled naturally at her hip. The look in his eyes reminded her of that morning, and the promise it had held. The promises he'd made. Again, Rose shivered.

"You'd best grab a jacket if you're chilly, and no wonder, you haven't enough of that dress to warm a cat." Jackie informed her from the door of her room. Lovey wailed from the living room, informing the world she expected food before they left. Jackie noticed the way the Doctor's eyes became slightly lidded at her mention of how little there was of that dress. She had plans for this night though, and if she let them start now, they might not make it far enough to be used to force them to the altar. One snog did not a wedding make. So Jackie kept as low a profile as a crazy woman can. It wouldn't do for them to realize what she was doing. And that meant acting as she usually did, except for talking to a ghost, and letting circumstances work for her favor

* * *

The first circumstance that worked in her favor was the restaurant. It was everything she'd hoped. The lighting was dim, the walls were dark green, and candles dotted the tables. They were lead to a secluded table where the Doctor held out Rose's chair for her. Jackie watched his fingers glide along Rose's shoulder and down her arm as he moved to seat himself, but she didn't mention it. Instead she asked Uncle Mortimer if he had any wine recommendations.

The Doctor was aware that the table was small to give an air of intimacy. He was also aware of how very well it worked. He had planned to take Rose to some of the most exquisite restaurants available. He still did, as a matter of fact, but her mother hadn't been part of the image he'd conjured of what these trips might entail.

Rose was everything he'd hoped she'd be under such conditions. She was warm, almost relaxed (but for the glances she kept casting her mum's way), receptive to the conversation, and not a bit shy. She leaned in to catch every word, and her arm kept brushing she sleeve of his jacket so that he wanted to tear it off, feel skin to skin, but he refrained. Not least because her mother and great-great uncle were watching them.

Oh, great. Now Jackie'd got him doing it. He had never been too far from insanity and he refused to be pushed round the bend by Jaqueline Tyler. He couldn't help but notice the irony. For years, now, he'd been running from what he felt for Rose, and, when he was finally ready to stop running, when he'd personally removed the last of the barriers she hadn't broken through yet, when he had no real hopes of turning back, he couldn't move forward. He just wasn't sure he could stop before it got out of hand. He realized that not only could Jackie not handle an extraterrestrial pursuing her daughter, but also Rose needed him to be supportive right now, not lecherous.

Alright, so he'd been lecherous since he'd met her, never had been before, but she'd taught him how to be. And now, she'd dressed up, and she was smiling for him, unaware of how the candlelight carressed her in ways that he wanted to. Unaware of the fact that she alone was capable of making him jealous of photons.

Jackie was currently chatting about Bev's latest adventure, and Rose, snickering, brushed a strand of hair from her face. She looked over at him and blinked at the intensity of his expression, smiled shyly and turned back to her mum with every appearnce of attention. The Doctor watched her and wondered if she had any idea what he wanted from her. He knew she wanted forever, but what did she mean by that? Would she apreciate what he had in mind for her? Could she reciprocate? He felt the all consuming fear that Rose inspired in him threaten. She'd never be happy with him; she would die so soon; she wouldn't want anything more with him; She'd leave.

And then her hand slipped seamlessly into his, and she met his eyes.

'You okay?' she mouthed. He smiled, the fears retreating. She wouldn't leave. She'd promised. And if there was one thing he believed in. He believed in her. He nodded and turned his attention to Jackie.

* * *

Jackie watched with satisfaction bordering on disgust the interaction between her daughter and the Doctor. If this was anything to go by, she needn't worry about qualifying for the inheritance. She hadn't seen them this long together since her daughter had swanned off for a year, and something seemed off. No, that wasn't right, they were the same as always, sickeningly close. Everytime she saw them they were even more wrapped around each other. But now that she saw them interact for such an unbroken period of time, she saw that the longing was different than she'd thought. It wasn't the desire for sex that would be expected between lovers. It was the yearning of those who hadn't yet expressed their passion.

That almost cast despair on the plan, but Jackie knew she had to be wrong. There was undisguised lust in the way he watched her head off to bed at the end of the evening. He would go to her tonight. Jackie just needed to know when to burst in. After she'd sent the Doctor to bed with Uncle Mortimer, Jackie taped a bit of fishing wire to his door. If he opened it, a small bell would ring by her bed. She grinned to herself. Her daughter would be well taken care of. Financially, at least.

* * *


	3. Crazy Is As Crazy Does

_Disclaimer: Hello all! This is **SilverWolf7**, your friendly Friday fanauthor, coming to you with the daily disclaimer report. None of has has yet to find the elusive slip of paper saying that anything to do with Doctor Who is ours. We'll keep searching, but I very much doubt it will be found..._

_A/N: Welcome to our little project. One chapter per day will be uploaded by a member of our team. My fellow authors are** Kathryn Shadow, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, NewDrWhoFan, Isis the Sphinx** and **Jessa L'Rynn**__**.** We hope you enjoy our work!_

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_**Chapter 3: Crazy Is As Crazy Does**_

"Well, Uncle Mortimer, looks like it's the two of us tonight..." the Doctor stated out loud, as he let himself lie down on the bed that had once belonged to the now deceased man. He didn't want to leave the room, afraid that Jackie would be pacing the hallways in an attempt to either catch him doing something naughty, or scare him into his next regeneration.

How had Uncle Mortimer died anyway? And how come his name had to be so long. Uncle Morty? Mort? Timer? Orton? And why did he have to start talking out loud to someone who wasn't even there to begin with.

His earlier thoughts of finally snapping and falling into complete insanity itself because of Jackie Tyler had him scowling at the empty place beside him.

"Oh yes, you bet I'll blame Jackie for making me step over that line, Morty. You don't mind if I call you that do you?" He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and sighed loudly. "No, of course you don't. You're not even here. I'm sharing Jackie Tyler's delusions. Brilliant."

He wanted to go see Rose. She had been beautiful tonight, superb, good enough to eat. He hadn't really been able to concentrate on the food. Or much of anything other than what he wanted to be doing with her in that tiny room right now...

Getting off the bed, wincing every time the house made a slight sound when he put his foot down, he went over to where his suit was (Jackie had insisted he not only slept in the room with Uncle Mortimer, but in the pyjamas she had dressed him in while he had been going through his regeneration sickness) and took out the small box he had been playing with since that morning.

It was a cosmic joke. It had to be. It was the only thing that made sense.

The universe hated him. Instead of gracing him a Jackie Tyler who would be reasonable, he had gotten the ghost seeing, insane version instead. He would have preferred slap happy Jackie to snog-ogle Jackie. And now he was stuck.

Rose was a bit lost, not knowing what to do, and it was plain to see that Jackie couldn't take a relationship between the two of them right now. It made everything that had suddenly seemed so simple this morning extremely hard.

He _really_ needed to talk to Rose. Forget what he'd like to do with her, right now they needed to sort this out. And sorting it out meant keeping a reasonable distance away from thoughts that would lead to things which would otherwise keep him up all night.

Not that he wouldn't be up all night anyway. But there were much better things to do with his nights than lie on some dead man's bed and have conversations with said dead owner.

Maybe given morning, the TARDIS' data banks would have found out what the problem with Jackie was and they'd be able to fix it bright and early. Maybe he should sneak into Jackie's room at an unreasonable hour in the morning to do another quick scan with the sonic screwdriver.

Putting the case back in his pocket, he instead went over to the bed, flopped himself down on it, and wondered why it was that he had to share with the ghost?

* * *

The little bell hadn't rang once the entire night. Jackie was, if it hadn't been plainly obvious by her scowls at the others in the house, quite angry that her little plan had backfired on her. The Doctor had definitely been lusting quite badly to go for a little wander into her daughter's bedroom last night, and all she had gotten was no sleep, because of his alternate pacing and short conversations with Uncle Mortimer.

Why in the world was he talking to something that wasn't there anyway? She had a reason for it, he didn't. And he blamed her for it too, if his complaining was anything to go by. Well, let him. As long as the alien decided that he did want Rose, she could deal with him being slightly crazier than he already was.

Speaking of Rose...

"Come on sweetheart, you need breakfast. And so does Himself, and there's plenty to go around."

The plenty of was cereal. Since the kitchen needed to be fixed a bit before any real cooking could be done, they were stuck with it. And she absolutely refused to eat anything off the table until it had been properly cleaned yet again. Cat hair was everywhere on it.

The Doctor ate his, slowly crunching away at the dry weet bix, because they had forgotten to get milk, and the tea last night had taken the last of it. Jackie, glad that someone had taken the lead, ate hers too. Rose was a little more difficult.

"I'm not hungry mum. I just...I'm not hungry."

The Doctor reached out a hand almost unconsciously and laid it on Rose's knee, Jackie noted and was pleased to see. Good. Now if only she could break down the walls the two had around themselves...

"Well, starve then. But you're not getting more for lunch. Put it back in the box then, and maybe we should go start on fixing this place up! I want to cook."

The look of horror that crossed their faces was priceless. Well, if anything, she'll soon find out whether or not the Doctor can cook, because it was doubtful the two would let her near an electrical socket for a while.

Still, that wouldn't stop her. And there was a bit of work to do around the house anyway.

She decided it was a good idea to sound a bit crazy again. "Uncle was planning on fixing up a few things before his death. A bit more gardening, mowing the lawns, there should be plenty enough to keep busy with. Isn't that right, Uncle Mortimer?"

Rose fidgeted, before getting up and moving out. Jackie watched as the Doctor looked to where her daughter had disappeared and hesitated. He looked at her. "Jackie, would you mind if I gave you a quick scan? You know, to make Rose worry less?"

She hated that bloody screwdriver of his right now, but knowing that she'd never get rid of him pestering her all day for it otherwise, she smiled winningly at him and agreed. "Why not? Nothing to worry about anyway, is there. I'm fine."

Because crazy people don't know they're crazy...do they?

And Rose was beginning to look a little more worried than she had yesterday.

* * *

Outside looked better than the inside. The rose bushes scattered throughout added a bit of colour, and the lawn was very...there. And big. Couldn't forget big. There was, after all, 2 acres of it on the property. It looked in dire need of being cut.

She wished her mum wasn't so utterly crazy right now, because she really needed someone to talk to about the Doctor and her feelings. While the Doctor might talk to her about her mum and what that might entail, it was scaring her to think that the pressure of all the added domestics would scare him off into the TARDIS, that she'd hear him leave and that he'd never come back.

She was still amazed he hadn't left yet. He had even eaten the dry cereal for breakfast.

It was around 15 minutes when the Doctor joined her outside, and they stayed quiet for another 10 with him doing nothing but holding her hand and keeping her company. She didn't know if it was helping her, or making her feel worse.

"Rose...really, what I said yesterday. It's alright to be upset. She's your mum after all."

She had the impression that he was changing the subject _to_ her mother and no idea what he really wanted to talk to her about. Well, at least it was noise and he was making it. He had been all too quiet since they had found her mum talking to ghosts in the flat. Things were changing too fast, and she knew, just knew that this was one of those situations she couldn't just go back and fix up like nothing had happened.

"She's talking to a ghost. A ghost, Doctor. Of a dead relative I didn't even know I had. How did this start? She was perfectly fine the last time we saw her."

The Doctor took her over to the swing and sat her down on it, kneeling in front of her with his hands over hers in a comforting gesture. "I don't know when it happened, but I promise you I'll find some way to fix it. Maybe she just...cracked under pressure. It's not unheard of."

Rose snorted at that. "Yeah, not unheard of. But why'd it have to happen to _my_ mum?"

He shrugged and then grinned at her. "Well, if it's any consolation, I think she's contagious. I spent half the night speaking to Uncle Mortimer. So, if you go crazy, we can all be in it together."

Sniffing, Rose rolled her eyes. "You know he's not there. You just like the sound of your voice too much to shut up for five minutes. And anyway, even if he was he'd probably be staring blankly at you, trying to understand your insane ramblings."

His jaw dropped open and wavered like a fish for a few seconds, before the grin replaced it again and he hugged her close. "You see? Crazy. The whole lot of us. But your mum is definitely the worst case scenario. She actually really believes this Uncle is there."

"Doctor...you will stay here with me, won't you? I don't think I could look after mum alone."

He smiled at her, and it made his eyes shine in that way that made her feel like drowning in heir depths. "Course I'm staying. Can't get rid of me. I wouldn't leave you alone to deal with this, no matter what."

She tried to smile back, but it dropped fast. "Yeah. No matter what is what scares me."

* * *

Jackie couldn't hear what the two were discussing outside, and had preferred to watch from a distance just in case something happened and she was lucky enough to catch it. Nothing happened, much. The Doctor was kneeling in front of Rose, his hands on hers and not going anywhere further up than her knee.

Honestly, if it wasn't for the lust she saw in both their eyes for the other whenever they were together and didn't think she was watching, she would believe he wasn't interested.

Oh...please don't say that his issue with this isn't because he wasn't attracted or in love or willing to marry Rose, but that she was human. Was it illegal for his kind to marry humans? Would he break that taboo now that he had every opportunity to? If his problem is because she was human, then she would beat him to death with...with...

She looked around the room she was in, and shrugged. She'd beat him to death with a big book of gardening. The same one he had been reading yesterday. That'll teach him.

If he wasn't willing to commit, then why the heck even bother starting something, because something had started, and it had started a long time ago. Just because she rarely saw them, didn't mean she didn't see them at all.

Maybe she needed to think of a Plan B...

Diabla meowed near her and purred softly from a place on one of the chairs.

Maybe she could get Lovey to follow the Doctor around? Nah, he'd be afraid of showing a certain piece of his anatomy.

He seemed to be slightly frightened, or at least didn't like, cats.

Hmm, plan B could wait for tomorrow, or not at all. She still had several years left after all, and if they can dance around each other for that long, than she'd be crazy.

They'd drive her to real insanity. She just knew it...

* * *


	4. Unbelief and String

_Hello! This is **Kathryn Shadow**, your local Saturday author, panicking over the fact that every other person on the list of people involved in this endeavor appears to know far more about what they are doing than herself. Eventually she might figure something out, but that will probably be after she's updated and completely cocked up the entire story with her profound inability to perform decently under pressure. Speaking of which, you might just want to skip this chapter, as Jessa couldn't betaread it in time._

_Disclaimer: Anyway, I looked everywhere for that bit of paper except in the basement, which appears to be the gateway to Hades itself, without the dog or the weirdo in the boat who doesn't mind saliva. I then dared to go down there for five minutes until the backs of my eyeballs began to melt, so I called my fellow fanauthors, but none of them could survive down there either. We would find some gas-masks and put them on and THEN search, but…_

_A/N: Welcome to our little project. One chapter per day will be uploaded by a member of our team. My fellow authors are **SilverWolf7, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, NewDrWhoFan, Isis the Sphinx** and **Jessa L'Rynn**. We hope you enjoy our work!_

* * *

**_Chapter 4: Unbelief and String_**

It might be necessary, due to the complex nature of the Doctor's emotions, to break them down very carefully into individual and understandable chunks. What he was feeling did actually have a name, but it is unpronounceable by humanoid mouths and it would be useless to attempt to spell it as well. Suffice it to say that this particular emotion was a peculiar mix of irritation, desperation, nervousness, adoration, devotion, the intense desire to shag senseless the target of the former two emotions, and sheer, unadulterated terror. This combination was generally only felt by humanoids in the event of their cultural equivalent of marriage, which— had he actually noticed it was happening— would have oddly surprised the Doctor and— had she been able to read his mind, which she thankfully couldn't— made Jackie absolutely delighted.

The Doctor stood in the middle of the room and thrummed. Distantly there was the faint thought prodding at him and wondering why the hell there was a living room almost the size of the rest of the house stuck randomly on the back like an afterthought, but he didn't really pay attention to it. It didn't matter.

He'd been chased from Rose, partly by Mortimer's and Jackie's (Dead and very much alive, respectively) piercing stares, partly by his favorite snog-ogler's sudden desire to at least get something vaguely akin to milk and equally unexpected ability to vanish instantly.

He was concerned about Jackie, and also about himself, because A. he was going to blow himself or those damned cats up if Jackie continued in her insanity and B. aforementioned condition appeared to be contagious.

He wondered if that might actually help with diagnosing it. Could be an alien virus of some kind.

One that neither he nor the TARDIS knew about.

He didn't quite discard the idea, but he did put it somewhere in the back of his mind, next to the recipe for Muesli. (He hated that stuff with a blinding passion and his knowledge of how to make such a horrible weapon often disturbed him. He supposed that it might have been so that he could recognize the warning signs of Muesli and avoid it accordingly, but he wasn't entirely sure of that.)

Diabla sat on his shoe. He glared at her; she blinked sweetly up at him and lay down, stretching herself out across his foot in a previously-thought physically impossible upside-down U shape. Her purr reverberated through his leg.

She was better than Lovey, he supposed absently. He hadn't had the misfortune to come across Lovey just yet, but he had heard tales of her evil. He actually thought he had heard her mentioned in some of the darkest legends of Skaro.

Getting back to whatever point may or may not have existed in his inner ramblings, there were also some intensely domestic things involved here. His companion's mother had finally lost all she possessed of the Jackie Tyler equivalent of sanity, the companion herself was understandably confused and jumpy, he appeared to have moved in with both of them without realizing it, and all of this was occurring just at the point where he had thought that maybe, _maybe, _an infinitesimal amount of domesticity (in the form of the return of something faintly akin to the "forever" that Rose had so sweetly promised) might just be tolerable. It seemed that there was some strange power somewhere out there whose only purpose was to torment him to the point where he was forced to cower in a corner and gibber until it all went away.

He could handle domestics, he had recently discovered, as long as Rose was involved. There were certain domestics he _liked_, as long as Rose was involved. This, however, was a little too much. As much as it irked him, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't stay still.

Just this once, though, he had to. He couldn't abandon Rose, especially not now, especially not to the mercies of an insane Jackie and a sadistic feline, when she appeared to be waiting for him to run, and _especially _especially not when he had nearly managed to get over his terror of giving in to her.

An image of her as she had looked several hours ago floated unbidden into his head, replaced with an image of her that his overactive imagination decided to play with.

Damn, he thought fiercely. Damn.

He scooped up Diabla and wandered off to find something to break.

Rose was waiting for the inevitable bladed instrument to descend.

She knew this particular emotion quite well. She'd felt it, both literally and figuratively, on at least every third planet she and the Doctor came across. She had almost got to the point where she could step out of the TARDIS (or into, as the case may have been) and know instantly whether or not the feeling was going to pounce at some point in that venture.

She hadn't expected it on this visit, which of course meant that it was going to happen. Indeed, it had happened, and had continued to happen ever since Jackie had started talking to Rose's dead great-uncle or whatever he was. The Doctor was getting restless; she could feel it. He'd jumped quite happily on her idea regarding the severe lack of anything edible in the entire house and then insisted (in the form of a very long rant on the dangers of her driving, Jackie's driving and noticeably not his own driving) they take the TARDIS.

"She might be able to scan her more efficiently if she's actually in here for a while," he had murmured to her under his breath as Jackie walked into the room, chattering animatedly with thin air.

She'd nodded, wondering if the fact that her stomach had suddenly decided to plummet through the floor had more to do with her mother's condition or the Doctor's proximity. A sort of choking exhalation escaped her throat without permission; the Time Lord noticed and pulled her close for a brief embrace, pressing his lips to her forehead and whispering some form of vaguely soothing sentence before he let go.

Neither of them noticed the almost predatory look that Jackie had sent in their direction. Whether this was a good thing or not would never quite be adequately decided.

Rose's agitation was oddly increased by the fact that the Doctor's flying skills, or lack thereof, had managed to get them on exactly the spot where they had wanted to go. He was being almost too complacent about all of this and it worried her, gnawing away at her mind along with the burning looks that he hadn't even been trying to conceal since she had promised him her forever under the forms of flying manta rays and arching black rock and burnt-orange sky. The uncomfortable feeling crawled along her nerves and solidified into a layer of sandpapery unease nestled beneath her skin as he followed her and Jackie— still happily conversing with her hallucination— like an obedient puppy. He hadn't even blown anything up yet. Why hadn't he blown anything up yet?

"I was thinking about shepherd's pie," Jackie said absently. "Never did get to make that for him. What do you think?"

"'S fine," Rose said quietly, knowing full well that the question wasn't meant for her.

"Stop interrupting Uncle Mortimer," chided the more obviously insane of the group.

She stopped and grabbed her mother's forearm to force her to do the same.

"You know he's dead, right?" she inquired softly, a slight tremble invading her voice.

"Don't be daft, 'course I do," answered Jackie in that faintly amused tone that female parental units generally used when their offspring were being particularly nonsensical. "We wouldn't have been able to get anything from his will if he hadn't died first, would we?"

"Then how's he talking to you?" she demanded. She was going to blow something up if the Doctor wasn't going to do it first. Hell, she might do it even if he did. Explosions tended to be good stress relievers and she was sounding like him now, wasn't she?

"Well, I don't know," snapped Jackie, crossing her arms defensively. "Ask that Doctor of yours, he's the one who knows everything." Without waiting for a retort, she stalked away.

The aforementioned Time Lord appeared beside Rose and she fought the growing urge to bash her head against the wall.

"She'll be all right," he said.

"Why are you doing this?" she inquired of him, preferring watching her parent vanish than actually look at him.

She felt his eyes on her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" She swallowed, the tightly-coiled tension inside her beginning to fray. "Staying with us, scanning her God knows how many times, taking us here and not three centuries back so that we can all get killed, that sort of thing. Why?"

He didn't appear completely certain of the answer to that. "Because I can't let you be alone," he eventually decided upon, echoing his earlier statement. She could feel the irritation at his forced repetition, but at least he tried to conceal it.

"How long's it going to take you to leave?"

She dared to glance at him. Hurt flickered across his features before they abruptly deadened into emotionlessness. "Do you want me to?" he asked.

"No," she answered instantly. "I just thought…" She looked away again. "'S not the sort of thing you do. You've got a bit better, but…" She trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

His hand encircled hers, their fingers entangling. "Do you remember when we first met?"

She nodded, even though she knew that the inquiry was purely rhetorical.

"You saved me then. I'm just trying to return the favor."

She let the words reassure her, but refused to believe him completely. He was the Doctor, and she knew he wouldn't last three days without jumping into his timeship and fleeing.

The Doctor was absolutely sure that Rose was going to get food poisoning from the dubious concoction that Jackie had created. He was going to be fine, as he sat out of her line of vision as long as she was arguing with Morty that he should eat something and was therefore able to surreptitiously feed the greenish-pink substance to the sweetly naïve Diabla, who sat next to his chair for almost the entire duration of the nearly-silent event. Rose was either too tormented by her violently conflicting emotions to notice the sheer evil her mother had bred (He was absolutely sure that, if it wasn't sentient right _now, _the entire thing had been at some point in its existence.) or had slowly gotten desensitized to it over years of being forced to eat it.

A jolt of pity raced through his nerves at that thought. He loved Jackie, as much as he hated to admit it, but the woman should never be allowed near a stove.

Anyway, he'd managed to escape intact and was now approaching his bedroom while trying to avoid detection by either feline. He had almost reached his door and had only been tripped by the aforementioned creatures once when he saw something shine faintly on the floor. Intrigued, he stepped closer, keeping his eyes on the elusive glint so as not to lose it in the slightly sickening color on which it rested.

It was a piece of fishing line. A piece of fishing line connected to his door. A piece of fishing line, connected to his door, leading to Somewhere Else.

He wondered absently how it had managed to escape detection from Diabla, who was too stupid to know not to chew on things, and Lovey, who would ruin the plans of anything and everything just for her own sick amusement— and yes, he knew it had to be a plan of some kind. Anything involving fishing line automatically pointed to some form of diabolical plot.

Naturally, having a strange affinity for diabolical plots, he followed the strand.

It went into Jackie's room, and that was the point where he started to seriously worry. Brow furrowing in confusion and nervousness, he continued to trace the fiber's path until it led to a small, sinister-looking bell.

He frowned at the bell.

The bell glinted bronzely at him.

He stored that bit of information next to the Muesli recipe, broke the fishing line, and went back into his room to think.

* * *


	5. Wonderings and Wanderings

_Disclaimer: Well, between all of us (**The Chibi's Are Stalking Me** (that's me), **SilverWolf7, Kathryn Shadow, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, , NewDrWhoFan, Isis the Sphinx** and **Jessa L'Rynn**), you'd think at least one of us would have found that piece of paper by now, but we still have no proof we own anything Doctor Who-y... :( We've unofficially decided to blame KS. ;P_

_Friends, Romans, Countrymen, Lend Me Your Ears: Hiya!! Guess What? ...I GET SUNDAYS!! -**All the chibi's cheer**- Anywho, enjoy! (And I want everyone to remember: I WRITE DRABBLES! If it's short...I blame the monkeys!!)_

* * *

**_Chapter 5: Wonderings and Wanderings_**

Lovey stalked through the front yard, hunting. She knew there was going to be a bowl of foodstuff waiting for her back inside, but where was the fun in that?

She'd been through the yard many times over, and if she could talk and if she could stand people long enough, she could tell them where each little pebble and bush was without even looking. Even Diabla didn't come outside as much she did. 'Course, that might just have been because Diabla was always following the people around everywhere.

So, Lovey naturally was confused when she walked by one of the bushes and the ground was too soft. She didn't like it. And it was far too cold. With a disdainful flick of her tail, she left the spot and went back to hunting.

* * *

The Doctor walked the rest of the way back to his room in silence, and locked the door behind him when he got there. Diabla was curled up on the foot of his bed, and if he could almost swear the cat was snoring.

Sitting down by the cat - who opened an eye to glare at him when he disturbed her sleep - he ran over all the details of Jackie Tyler's sudden descent onto madness.

First: she was talking to a ghost of 'dear uncle Morty'. Scans had showed not a single bulb, blemish, blot, or other b-word on her brain though. Maybe it really was a virus...

Second: Jackie's continued talkings with an invisible dead man were making Rose upset. If this kept up, he might just wind up taking care of two mental Tyler women.

Third: What was with the bell? Did it matter? Maybe he'd look around the house a bit more, just in case there was something else.

He wasn't sure it that was a lot to go on or just a little. There was nothing he could do for Jackie until he knew what was wrong with her, and that brought up two of the things the Doctor had never liked: Not being able to help people, and not knowing something.

Absently, he put his hand in his pocket and felt for the little box inside. All they'd meant to do was stay long enough to do the laundry, then he had planned...

With a sigh he pulled his hand out of his pocket and shrugged out of the jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair and running a hand through his hair.

It could wait.

Jackie, for the moment at least, came first.

* * *

Rose was pacing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth... She was either going to pace a hole in the floor, or her legs would eventually give out, as she didn't show any signs that she was stopping any time soon.

Rose was also - as anyone would when a family member had suddenly gone 'round the bend - worrying. What if her mum didn't get better? What if she started seeing the whole bleedin' family tree and decided to hold a family reunion or something? And then what would Rose do? She couldn't leave her mother like this, but she was sure the Doctor wouldn't want to be stuck taking care of her mum for the rest of his life.

...back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...

Or lives.

Whichever.

She'd thought about calling someone else in to check on her mum more than once, but decided the Doctor was the best around for at least four solar systems. But why hadn't he found something yet? She was walking around talking to the air beside her, and all the scans said there was nothing wrong?!

Rose's head was starting to hurt.

...back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...

It was turning out, pacing doesn't help.

She was also scared. Scared that she wouldn't be able to help her mum. Scared that she'd wake up and the Doctor would have left her and the domestics behind. Just...scared.

And so, after who-knew-how-long of pacing, Rose did what she always did when she was scared.

She went to find the Doctor.

* * *


	6. The Domino Effect

_Disclaimer: There is a paper trail that one can follow to Torchwood. Once there, you can take over the Hub. Then, maybe, BBC might hand over the paper that says we, **Isis the Sphinx, SilverWolf7, Kathryn Shadow, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, NewDrWhoFan** and **Jessa L'Rynn**, own Doctor Who. If Jack doesn't get to it first. If Jack got it first, I'd feel very sorry for the Doctor, 'cause there's no telling what he'll do._

_Ramblings of a goddess: Alas, poor me. I (Isis the Sphinx) got stuck with Mondays. I agree with Garfield's opinion about them._

* * *

**_Chapter 6: The Domino Effect_**

Things progressed as time went on in the late (or maybe not so much) Uncle Morty's "mansion". Jackie continued to talk to Uncle Mortimer; the Doctor continued to scan Jackie with both the sonic screwdriver and the TARDIS. The ever so annoying theory that Jackie had an unknown virus was becoming more and more plausible. Rose continued to pace. And worry. Worry and pace. Pace and worry.

Rose also took lots of showers. When there's a lack of explosions as stress relievers, showers are the next best thing. Soon, it got to be so bad that if Rose wasn't pacing or worrying, she was taking a shower. She usually took a shower just after lunch, and in the middle of the night, when she couldn't sleep.

Unfortunately for the poor water heater, it just couldn't take all this abuse. It was old, and it never really had to do much work before. Now, there were three hot-water using people in the house and one of them was constantly using hot water. In water heater terms, this heater was old. Old as in 'ancient relic' old. The poor thing died in its sleep; just after Rose's last shower.

This house had a very odd plan. There was a large room just randomly tacked on to the end, things placed in other weird areas, and other such nonsense. The water heater was not in the basement, where some people place the heater. To Jackie's knowledge, there wasn't a basement. No, the water heater in this house was placed in the closet of the master bedroom. Water heaters tend to leak when they no longer work. This water heater didn't just leak, it poured. It poured like it had been commanded to mimic Noah's flood. So, at eight in the morning, when the Doctor got up, the first thing he thought about was: "Why is the carpet soaked?"

Following the trail of wet in his room, the Doctor opened the door to the closet and another six inches of water came rushing at him, splashing the bottoms of his pajama pants. Disregarding the wet clothes, the Doctor pulled out his Screwdriver and attempted to stop the leaking. It worked, after he got squirted in the face from adjusting a washer the wrong way.

Jackie and Rose came in an hour later when the Doctor didn't come for breakfast. They found him covered in dirt, dust, and soaked.

"Your water heater's broken. Gonna have to get a new one. And a new carpet for this room."

For the next few days, the Doctor slept on the couch as the carpet and water heater were being replaced. Or he would have, if it wasn't given to Uncle Mortimer.

"Now Doctor, you wouldn't make Uncle Mortimer sleep on the floor, would you? He may be dead, but it's still his house. We've got to be nice to him," Jackie admonished as she handed the Doctor is pillow and blanket.

The Doctor grumbled the whole night.

Things smoothed out a bit after that. The new water heater was up to taking the brunt of Rose's showers, so no real problems there. Jackie, again, continued to talk to uncle Mortimer. Her current conversation was on the subject of gardening.

"You, want to tame the roses, you say? That's nice. We could put them up into nice hedges and stick them in certain areas around the house…" She trailed off, nodding, as she agreed to whatever she thought Uncle Mortimer was saying.

The Doctor had finally gotten a hold of something he could take his frustrations out on. The lawnmower. "This could be a little more sonic." By the end of the week, the lawnmower could mow the whole lawn under a minute just by pushing a button.

Lovey, being the evil cat that she was, discovered how nicely the sound carried through the house if you meowed really loudly in the living room. So, in the middle of the night, every night, for a week, she began a feline concert. People in the house heard her as if she was right next to them. Diabla loved it, being the only other one who understood cat. She thought Lovey had a wonderful singing voice.

Every time someone got out of bed and attempted to catch Lovey at her act of singing, she disappeared practically out of thin air. Why Lovey stopped was a complete mystery. Maybe it was because she felt sorry for the humans, or maybe it was because she was planning some other form of torture. It was most likely the latter.

* * *


	7. Uncle Mortis

_A/N: **NewDrWhoFan** here with your Tuesday update: the October Project continues! One chapter per day, that's the goal. My fellow authors are **SilverWolf7, Kathryn Shadow, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, Isis the Sphinx** and **Jessa L'Rynn**. We hope you enjoy our work!_

_Disclaimer: Speaking of which, I've found it! That little proof-of-ownership for Doctor Who! It's right - now, wait a minute. I had it right here. It's gotta be around here somewhere. . . . Oh, just read the chapter. I'm sure it'll turn up again, soon._

* * *

_**Chapter 7: Uncle Mortis**_

Mortimer Aloysius Prentice had never been one to deny his, well, eccentricities. To be honest, he was rather proud of them. His dear wife, Rosa, certainly hadn't had any objections. In fact, she'd found them endearing.

Ah, Rosa. A "hopeless romantic", she'd called him, when they'd first met. He'd told her then, he preferred "hopeful".

As a young couple, they'd moved into this very home. A small, one-storey affair on a tidy bit of land, it had seemed the perfect place to start their lives together. Rosa had always loved plants, especially her namesake, so Mortimer had filled the grounds with rosebushes.

After a few arrangements of roses for friends' birthdays, Rosa had told him she'd like to try her hand as a florist. They weren't in desperate need of the money; Mortimer had already achieved a modicum of success with his own antiques business, and his savings and investments were doing well. But what Rosa wanted, Mortimer would give her - anything within his power. So it was that he found himself expanding their small home, adding almost an entire new wing to the back of the house for Rosa's shop.

After almost three years of marriage, Rosa found out she was expecting a child. But their greatest joy soon turned to Mortimer's greatest tragedy. Both Rosa and their little boy were lost in childbirth.

Mortimer closed himself off from the outside world after that, although no one who didn't know him well was able to tell. He still ran his business (far past retirement age, even though he really didn't need the money), and he still tended the grounds - the roses remained the marvel of the neighborhood for decades. But all traces of the florist shop were removed from the house, and the room (and the rest of the house, for that matter), came to resemble a cross between a library and a second antiques store, rather than a cozy little home.

He was polite enough when relatives came to call, but he refused to keep up any sort of correspondence, and the visits soon dwindled to nought. His sister was the only one who stubbornly continued to write to him, keeping him up to date on the family's doings such as weddings, funerals, and births. So it was that he learned his nephew's daughter had named her own daughter Rose, instantly gaining the little girl a place in his heart. And when the news came of her father's untimely death, his bond to the girl he'd never met only grew stronger.

Mortimer's only regular social interaction took place at the cafe where he'd had breakfast and dinner every day for the past sixty years. He chatted with the customers about the weather and about business, but it was only with the new waitress, Ruth, that he'd ever ventured into personal territory.

After sixty years of self-imposed solitude, it just took a friendly, thirty-something waitress to begin to crack his shell. Mortimer found himself telling her all about Rosa, from meeting her when they were fourteen, to sweeping her off her feet, to their marriage, and even losing her.

It was Ruth who'd found him when he'd had his first, serious illness. Mortimer had never had a problem living alone, until one morning he woke to find he couldn't even get out of bed. Ruth had missed him at the cafe, and the next morning came around the house to check on him. There was no mistaking the house, thanks to the rosebushes. Fortunately, he'd left the curtains of his bedroom open, and she'd seen him and realized he needed help. The paramedics had to break through the door to get into the house. He'd given Ruth a key, after that.

Fortunately, there were no repeat illnesses, and Mortimer was able to resume his regular routine. In fact, he even added a lunch break to his daily schedule, so that he could now be found at the cafe three times a day.

And then it happened. He was sitting in is favorite chair one evening, the one in the living room by the mantelpiece, when he assumed he must have fallen asleep. When he woke, he didn't feel ill, but he just couldn't muster the will to leave the house. He puttered around for a bit, not really knowing what to do with himself, but completely incapable of following his normal schedule.

Even the cats were acting strangely. They didn't seem to be eating well, and they'd taken to curling up on the floor by his chair, watching him intently whenever he came into the room. This in itself wasn't strange for Diabla, but Lovey was never one to stay still for too long.

Mortimer wasn't sure how much time had passed, but it must have been a while: Ruth came by. He heard her knocking at the front door, but he didn't make it there before she let herself in.

She walked into the living room, and screamed.

It was then that Mortimer finally noticed what was odd. The cats were curled up at the foot of his chair, yes. But they were curled up at his own feet, as well. He looked down and saw himself, sprawled in the chair, impaled by the great antlers that had previously hung on the wall over the mantelpiece.

He winced at the sight, thinking what a horrible way to go that must be.

Until he realized, he hadn't felt a thing.

After Ruth revived - she'd fainted, not that Mortimer could blame her - she called the police. They came in, did their investigation, and left. It all seemed to happen rather quickly, but Mortimer suspected he didn't exactly have the same concept of time that he used to have.

Nothing seemed to be happening after his body was removed and the wall repaired. Ruth did come by the house, just to feed the cats and change their litter box. Lovely Ruth.

And then, finally, a change. A crew of rent-a-maids came to the house, removing the layers of dust that had accumulated. Mortimer wondered if the house was going to be sold. He remembered he'd willed it to his great-niece, Jacqueline (Rose's mother).

The movers came next. To his surprise, they weren't there to pack up his things. Rather, they unloaded what amounted to a second small household's worth of boxes. He was thrilled to see "Jackie Tyler" on their invoices.

After the movers left, Jackie herself arrived. Mortimer was delighted to finally meet her and Rose in person, although he couldn't exactly make proper introductions. Rose had also brought a friend - a beau, perhaps - who seemed to be a doctor of some sort.

To Mortimer's amazement, Jackie spoke to him. To him! A ghost! He'd heard of such things, but had never believed in ghosts or anything paranormal. Of course, being a ghost himself now, his view was changing.

However, he quickly realized that Jackie wasn't actually speaking to him, but rather _acting_ like she was.

It got quite annoying, rather quickly. He lost count of the number of times he'd turned at the sound of his name, only to find Jackie speaking to the empty space in front of her.

Rose and the doctor - or, rather, "the Doctor", as he seemed to be called - seemed to think she was insane. Mortimer tended to agree with them.

As far as Mortimer could tell, they'd barely just moved in, but already the strain was plain to see. Rose was heartbroken, the Doctor was frustrated, and Jackie - well, he was getting suspicious of Jackie. She only seemed to "talk" to him when the others were around. And now, it seemed, she had designs on his rosebushes.

A glimmer of an idea began to form in Mortimer's mind. He was well aware of the clause in his will regarding Rose. He'd hoped to be able to provide for her, and by now her share of the inheritance should be quite a healthy sum, even after Ruth's share was set aside. Jackie would know this, and as her daughter wasn't already married, would probably be eager to remove that particular stumbling block. The Doctor seemed the ideal candidate, if his closeness to Rose was anything to go by. That, and Mortimer had caught him secretly eyeing the ring the Doctor had hidden in his suit jacket.

But why the act, if indeed it was an act? Mortimer had heard Rose mention the Doctor leaving; maybe this was Jackie's way of keeping him around, hoping he'd propose. It didn't make much sense to Mortimer. He could see already that staying here at the house wasn't helping matters.

He decided he'd have to take matters into his own hands. Well, his hands might be a bit of a problem. He still hadn't figured out how to directly affect matter in his incorporeal state. But Lovey could help. Diabla had always been a bit of a ditz, but Lovey, now she's clever.

He had never imagined he would be the haunting type. However, he'd always been a hopeful romantic, and it seemed he had a job to do before he could go on to meet his sweet Rosa again.

* * *

_To be continued!_

_Yes, I have a serious addiction to backstory and unseen tidbits of information. If It's not spelled-out, I've got to make it up. Why else do you think I started writing fanficion? Oh, yeah. Romance. Well, nevermind._

_And no, I still haven't found the proof-of-ownership. Phooey._


	8. The Wisest Weighs In

_Today's disclaimer is brought to you by the number 7! Seven writers: **Jessa L'Rynn **(yours, truly), **SilverWolf7, Kathryn Shadow, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, NewDrWhoFan, **and **Isis the Sphinx**! HOORAY SEVEN! And by the letter D! D for Doctor, and D for documentation, which is still missing, which will finally give us ownership of Doctor Who, as soon as we find it!_

_Check the Profile Page for updated information about our writers!_

* * *

**_Chapter 8: The Wisest Weighs In_**

"Rose is all jittery," the Doctor said, morosely. "I think she thinks her mum's gonna explode, and I can't blame her. I can't find a single thing wrong with the woman. I mean, except that she's Jackie Tyler which, admittedly, is more than enough to be wrong with anyone. It's not like I haven't tried. There's no chemical imbalance, no drugs in her system... did you detect any alcohol?"

"_Have you noticed that you're even babbling at me now?_" asked the TARDIS in response.

"I do not babble!" the Doctor replied hotly. "I'm just... thinking out loud, that's it. Brainstorming, you know. I have an enormous brain and I don't think that..."

"_Do stop,_" said the TARDIS, and She sounded exasperated. _"Rose thinks we're going to leave her. I won't and you had better not. It took me too long to get you to see reason where she's concerned, and I'm not having you mess up my years of work just because your feet itch."_

He pouted at the ceiling of his frankly magnificent time ship. "Are you trying to claim this was all your idea?" he demanded, hotly.

She said nothing.

He sighed and ran a hand up a coral support strut. "Well, if it was, then thank you."

She chimed merrily at him and he grinned. "So, what do I do?"

* * *

Rose came into the kitchen early that morning, deciding that she might as well make breakfast, since she was up. However, the very instant she staggered into the kitchen, she realized that either A, she wasn't the only one up yet, or B, she wasn't up yet either and was having a very strange dream.

The Doctor was in the kitchen and he was cooking. This was nothing new. He cooked on the TARDIS from time to time and, except for the fact that she had to watch him to make sure he didn't get distracted and set fire to every appliance in the place, he was an excellent cook.

He was wearing an apron. Also, nothing new. Jack had got him one once that said "Trust me, I'm a Doctor" and he had tried to hurl it and Jack into the Vortex. The TARDIS hid them both, Jack until he calmed down, the apron until a few weeks after his regeneration, when it turned up again and he suddenly loved it.

He wasn't wearing that one, though. He was wearing the bright red one that said, "Kiss the Cook." It was hers, actually, but no one had ever taken her up on the offer.

He was also wearing blue jeans.

She stared. She lifted her hand, checked that it wasn't see through, pinched it lightly with her other hand. It appeared to hurt so, in theory, this was real. Then, just because she thought it was a very good idea, given the way he filled out those jeans _just so_, she checked her mouth to make sure she wasn't drooling.

Her hands would just fit into the back pockets. She could sidle over there, slide them inside - with effort, admittedly - and squeeze. Cuddle up against his back, listen to the double thrum of his hearts beneath her ear. Maybe plant a small kiss on his spine. He might lean into her, make that low pitched, growly noise he sometimes made when he was completely contented with the way something worked out, when they were relaxing on the sofa after a hard day of saving the world. Maybe let one hand loose from the pocket to trail around his front, under the apron, under his t-shirt...

Rose shook herself and discovered that her hands were rather alarmingly close to his hips. She stepped back sharply. "Erm. Good morning," she offered.

The Doctor turned abruptly towards her, a spatula in his hand, a look of surprise on his face. His eyes quickly softened to something doe-eyed and still and wonderful, something that made her breath catch in her throat. "Good morning, my Rose," he said, so softly. Her mental power was abruptly reduced to two small, quivering brain cells, and they were both whimpering in confusion.

He leaned forward. She couldn't help leaning into him in return. His lips brushed her cheek and the coolness and gentleness of his touch still set her blood on fire. She was convinced that her body temperature had just sky-rocketed.

"Erm... Doctor?" she whispered.

"Hum?" he said. The spatula had disappeared. His hands would appear to have found their way to her waist. When did that happen? One of them seemed to be toying with the back of her sleep shirt, just above the pink shorts she wore low on her hips.

"Are you... feeling ok?" she asked.

His face was, very definitely, buried in her hair. His lips, in fact, were next to her ear and... um...

She was down to one brain cell, now, and it was definitely not enough to supply her with a single reason why she shouldn't grab him by the hair and snog him stupid. "Actually, I'm feeling wonderful," he murmured, low and... he couldn't possibly be meaning to talk like that. "It's a wonderful day, I'm here with a wonderful girl, doing the wonderful thing of making breakfast. Nothing green and noisy and extremely dangerous wants me to blow it up and I cannot think of a single place in the Universe I would rather be."

Rose frowned. "Who are you and what have you done with the Doctor?" she mused, almost completely dazed, and she could hardly recognize that breathy, throaty voice as her own.

He chuckled and shifted back from her, looking deeply into her eyes. "Are you going to check me over?" he asked and waggled his eyebrows at her. His hands gestured randomly - well, suggestively, to her eyes, but probably randomly to his - over his body.

His voice... the way he said that... Heat pooled throughout her body and his nostrils flared. His eyes went dark, darker than they had ever been. He leaned in toward her and this time he didn't appear to be aiming for her cheek at all.

There was a spark from behind him and he jumped back to the stove, broke the spell he had managed to cast over her. He was swearing, softly, melodically, and Rose couldn't stop the giggle that escaped her chest. "Did you burn the bacon?" she asked, teasingly, coming up beside him to take his hand.

He was happy. Maybe he really did want to stay with her.

He tilted his head and smiled at her, sheepishly. "Almost," he admitted. "Just a bit well done, anyway. Go on and set the table, love, I'll have this ready in no time."

She had scavenged through the drawers, found three sets of matching cutlery, found matching plates, located napkins and place mats and a juice carafe. She was most of the way through the final place setting before it hit her.

The Doctor had just called her "love."

* * *

Jackie was annoyed as hell. Rose and the Doctor seemed to be back to holding hands and grinning impishly at each other, but neither one of them were even making the slightest move to jump the other. She was going to kill them both, they were going to drive her insane. Lovers were supposed to shag often enough that even crazy mothers could catch them at it, damn it all, and frankly, if the Doctor weren't twenty times her age and sitting there looking half it, _she_ would at least consider jumping him right now.

He was just sitting there, eating his breakfast, and every single thing about him, from the wild hair to the dark eyes that seemed to be glued to her daughter's every move, from the way he brushed her hand every single time he got close to it to the way he leaned toward every word she said, every single thing about him was, in Jackie's opinion, screaming sex. Maybe she'd raised her daughter wrong, because Rose seemed utterly oblivious to the whole thing.

He was eating from her plate, for god's sake. Meanwhile, Rose was laughing and teasing him and generally treating it like they were grade school friends on the play ground.

Right. This couldn't go on, they were going to drive her stark raving mad. She was getting to the point that she was strongly considering ringing Shireen and asking her what the hell was wrong with Rose that she couldn't tell when a man was coming on to her.

"Rose," she said abruptly, interrupting their childish giggling over grape jam and some toast, "I've had a chat with Uncle Mortimer, and..."

"Great," interrupted the Doctor, cheerfully. "What does Uncle Morty need now, Jackie?" He rested his elbows on the table, looking at her with fascination like she was about to issue a royal proclamation or something.

Stubborn alien git.

"We think it's time to paint your room, Rose, and change the carpet in there," said Jackie. "I'll have to have some people in to do it and it could take a few days. You won't mind sleeping on the sofa, will you?"

"No, no, that's fine," said Rose, though she didn't look like it was fine at all.

"No, it's not," interrupted the Doctor. "That room is... and it has... I mean, no. She can sleep in the Master bedroom, I'll take the sofa, and Uncle Morty can have her room - he isn't going to mind the paint fumes, what with being dead and everything."

"Doctor, you're just being rude," Jackie said snippily.

"Yep, that's me," he agreed. "Decidedly rude and absolutely not ginger." He paused and looked at her curiously, his head tilted to one side. "Could you make me ginger, Jackie? I'd quite like to try it."

"You keep this up and I'm gonna make you bald!"

"You're not going to do that," Rose said, firmly. Then she turned to the Doctor. "Do not even think about dying your hair, either."

Then she stood up, collected the breakfast dishes from the table, and stalked away.

The Doctor still didn't take his eyes off her.

* * *

Rose was not hiding in the TARDIS. She was looking for a lost sock, and she was going to find it if it took her centuries, as she'd informed the Doctor - who was tinkering with the damned lawnmow again - just before she came in here. He'd had it working yesterday and he wouldn't need it for several more days, so why was he playing with it and singing and acting like he was as happy as if he had any sense.

Besides, given breakfast, she was certain she could find much better work for those fine, slender hands... She shook herself and snatched up a shoe, which she hurled at a nearby wall.

The absolute truth was, she would never find that sock because she didn't know where its mate had come from in the first place. She had started to strongly suspect that the dryer in the TARDIS was where the one sock from everyone else's wash ended up. She had even dared once to ask the Doctor - her first Doctor - about it, and he'd looked at her like she was mad and then started on about quantum fluxes and poly-whatsits design flaws.

She was under a rack of clothes in the Wardrobe room, playing with a recorder she'd found in a coat pocket, and generally wishing her life would go the hell away. She wanted to see Volaris. She missed the stars. The Doctor had promised her Dolarosa at sunset. She did not want to be stuck in a mad house with a crazy woman, a domesticated Doctor, the ghost of her Great-great Uncle, and his cat from hell.

"I just want to know what's wrong with my mother!" she snapped, angrily, and kicked the rack across from the one she was hiding under.

The TARDIS beeped a stern protest. "_Did it occur to you that there might be __nothing __wrong with your mother?_" She asked.

Rose frowned. "What?" she demanded. Then, as realization dawned, her eyes got huge. Then, they narrowed.

* * *

"Rose," the Doctor called from the living room. It was a really weird room, but it had fantastic acoustics, and you could hear things said in there just about anywhere in the house.

Rose wandered in the general direction of the living room, still not entirely certain what to do with her new suspicion. She got to the living room and found the Doctor sitting in one of the recliners, complaining at some bittersweet scene on the telly. "C'mon, girl!" he shouted at the blonde on screen. "Don't kiss either of them. They're both obviously stupid wankers who don't deserve you if they can't figure out that you're gonna do what he wants whether you'll be happy or not. Tell 'em both to shove it and run off with the Immortal instead. At least he appreciates you!" He stood, flicked off the telly with a vicious stab at the remote and jerked his hands through his hair. "God, who writes this stuff?"

"Doctor?" Rose asked, completely bewildered.

"Oh, hi Rose." He blushed a sweet pink and gestured at the telly. "Usual soap opera garbage," he muttered.

"When did you start watching soaps?" she demanded incredulously.

"It was that or Life on Mars, and the bloke starring in it makes me nervous."

"What did you need?" she asked.

"Humm?"

"You called me," she reminded him, and wondered if his eyes were really lingering on her inappropriately or if he was accidentally staring at her chest because it had gotten in his way while he was staring into space. Sadly, she decided it was probably the latter.

"Oh, right." He looked around the room, as though trying to find his train of thought, which had apparently been involved in a tragic railway accident and had been banged up pretty badly. He jerked his fingers through his hair in distress, and she sternly reminded her hands that they were not allowed to straighten it - or make it worse.

Suddenly he grinned at her, beatifically. "I remember. I was going to look through the library, see if I could find any family history in here. You see, if there's a family history of seeing ghosts of dead relatives or something like that, I might can back track it, see what previous diagnoses were made, that sort of thing."

He prattled on about family history and skipping generations and genetic tendencies and precognition and god alone knew what else, all the while clutching at her hand and stroking it tenderly while he led her over to one of the shelves that the room was, pretty much, lined with. Rose couldn't pay attention to what he was saying, because she couldn't decide how to tell him that maybe her mum was just being an attention-seeking prat for some unfathomable reason. Also, her eyes couldn't seem to detach themselves from the way his lips were moving.

The Doctor beamed at her proudly. "And maybe that way I can find a solution!" he said.

Rose decided, then and there, that she wasn't going to tell him, couldn't dash his hopes to pieces when he was being so sweet and helpful. She was going to use it, instead, and Jackie Tyler was going to get what was coming to her.

He turned and strode purposefully toward the next set of shelves. Or would have done, except that, apparently, Lovey had decided that that particular set of shelves needed guarding by a cat-shaped speed bump. Rose watched it all as if in slow motion.

He stepped, Lovey jerked up and wrapped herself around his legs. Lovey hissed and he jumped away from her, and slowly toppled. Rose reached to grab his arm to keep him from falling, and felt something wrap around her own ankles. They staggered together, two people and a cat all doing an awkward tandem dance trying not to land on each other.

The edge of the carpet was suddenly there. The last of Rose's balance deserted the scene utterly. The Doctor, apparently sensing this, shifted his weight and, fighting the laws of gravity and losing, let his body arch, gracefully.

That was the last slow thing that happened.

All at once, he was on the floor, and she was on top of him, cradled protectively against his chest, their arms and legs entwined like vines - or lovers.

This sort of thing happened all the time in the TARDIS, but it had never felt like this, all breathless and giddy and... She gulped and shifted her weight slightly. The Doctor looked her over quickly, his eyes checking her automatically, as they always did, for injuries. Then, something else shifted, something in the very air around them, and their gazes collided, brown to brown, dark to dark, heat to... oh god, did she just wiggle her hips?

His nostrils flared, his eyes batted closed and then shot open abruptly. He arched suddenly, beneath her, swearing profusely, and Rose wondered why he would swear if he was going to be that... um... what did he have in his pocket?

"Sorry," he apologized, breathlessly. "Cat just clawed my ankle."

Then both just lay there, wrapped up in each other like lovers in the clench, and stared.

* * *

Jackie had been out pruning one of the rose bushes when a sudden jolt of hyper-sensitive mother's intuition made her jerk her head back toward the house. Specifically, she gazed at the living room, through huge windows that had neither curtains nor blinds. The Doctor was there with Rose, and they were moving together, a bit awkwardly it appeared, but together all the same. He was clutching her to him, she was leaning completely into his embrace, and all at once they toppled out of sight.

Jackie had to stifle a yell of triumph as she raced toward the house.

* * *

There was a noise from the back deck, and the Doctor was abruptly on his feet, righting Rose as he went, terror and fury warring inside him for a place to put his current opinions of Jackie Tyler and her bloody-minded timing. "Your mum is..."

"I hear her," Rose muttered back at him and flung herself toward the nearest shelf. She started singing a slightly obscene - but only if you understood it - drinking song that Jack had taught them back on Urpantis. The Doctor grinned and, feeling slightly insane and completely giddy, sang along.

Jackie opened the door and saw them and, the Doctor noticed, her jaw dropped. "Something we can help with?" the Doctor asked, pulling down a heavy old tome and rifling through it. "Look, Rose, a..." He stopped, held himself in check, only barely. "Jackie, what do you need?"

"I was... I was wondering if you'd seen Lovey. She's normally out in the garden."

The Doctor looked around for the demonic hellion cat. Diabla was sitting in the wide window sill, looking as vapid and ridiculous as she ever did, but there was no sign whatsoever of Lovey. She was probably hiding from him, afraid he would jettison her into space. He would, too, except that he was convinced she'd come back with an army and try to take over the world.

That was the same reason he didn't jettison Jackie, actually.

"Sorry, Mum," Rose said. "She's probably off pestering Uncle Mortimer."

Jackie shot Rose a look with narrowed eyes, then nodded tersely and strode off.

The Doctor looked at Rose and grinned and, because he absolutely could not help it, even if his life depended on it, started singing a Queen song that had been stuck in his head for a week.

Rose just shook her head at him and sang along, even when he changed the lyrics.

_"...Tie your mother down, lock your mother out of doors, I don't need her hanging 'round..."_

* * *


	9. Plans In Fruition

_Disclaimer: We found some very interesting papers in one of our authors' houses yesterday. Names won't be mentioned, but I will say that though Australians are brilliant at forging signatures, they need work on fake watermarks. It's the closest we've come, but our lawyers inform us that we still don't own Doctor Who._

_A/N: This is **Olfactory-Ventriloquism **welcoming you to our little project. One chapter per day will be uploaded by a member of our team. My fellow authors are **SilverWolf7, Kathryn Shadow, The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, NewDrWhoFan, Isis the Sphinx** and **Jessa L'Rynn**. We hope you enjoy our work!_

* * *

**_Chapter 9: Plans In Fruition_**

Rose Tyler was beginning to suspect that her mother had raised her wrong. Everything the Doctor did, recently, seemed to be an act of seduction. This from her best friend. Alright, so, really he was the man she'd fallen in love with, but he only wanted friendship, and she'd be damned of she'd lose him because she wanted more. Thinking like this, reacting like this to him could only drive her insane. Truly insane, not this attention-seeking sham her mother had put in place. She also suspected that if whatever had gotten into the Doctor didn't get back out of him soon, she would in no way be responsible for her actions. Whether her actions would include killing him or snogging him, she wasn't sure.

Currently, she was leaning sleepily towards the latter. The painters had started that afternoon and the smell permeated the entire house. Rose was unhappily surprised to learn that she could save the world but was undone by paint fumes. Her head throbbed, her neck ached, and her back and shoulders warned against movement. The Doctor had noticed her reaction almost before she did and had retrieved some medicine that was guaranteed to make her impervious to this latest threat…after 12 hours. In the meantime, Rose sat on the couch, facing away from the Doctor, loosely holding a pillow to her stomach as the Doctor gently and methodically worked the tension out of her spine, and Rose was melting beneath his assault. Jackie had long since gone to bed.

Throughout it all, he spoke in soft tones, telling her the bright future that now faced the Pelexi due to their most recent adventure.

Their first queen will be named Rosera." He murmured as deft fingers released Rose's hair from its messy bun. Blonde locks cascaded around his fingers and the sweet, floral scent of her shampoo launched itself merrily into the atmosphere surrounding them. When she felt him begin his ministrations again, this time on her scalp, she moaned to feel the pain scurry away from his touch. His hands stilled at the sound.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, anxiety tingeing his tone. His voice was right next to her ear. He had moved even closer in his concern.

"No," Rose said, smiling softly. "Felt good," she admitted with a soft blush. She must've sounded like some sort of strumpet. She felt the Doctor heave a sigh of relief, his breath tickling her ear, making her still.

Then she felt him breath in again, slower this time as though he were savoring a scent. She felt him draw even closer, his chest pressed against her back, and she stopped breathing, afraid even that tiny movement would scare him off. Tender fingers drew her hair back. His nose nuzzled her neck. His tongue traced the shell of her ear, and she shivered.

"Cinnamon?" he asked innocently. Leaning back. Rose spun around, instantly incensed, and slammed the pillow she was still holding into the side of his head.

"Oi!" she exclaimed, and she was back to liking the homicide options. "My body wash is none of your business!" He looked stunned, the blow to the head had mussed his hair more than usual. "And anyway, you're not supposed to be making me think that-" Rose slammed her mouth shut.

"Think what?" the Doctor asked, in a soft growl, his eyes, dark and possessive, swept over her expression taking in her flushed cheeks and parted lips. Rose rallied to the occasion.

"Doesn't matter. Point is, you're supposed to be making my head stop hurting, not…anything else," Rose finished lamely. The Doctor's heated stare instantly cooled to one of concern and confusion.

"It still hurts?" he asked gently. His tender hands returned to her skull.

"Of course it-" Rose began angrily. Then she stopped and listened to her body's lack of clamoring. "Doesn't. How'd that work?" she asked, both because she was curious and because it drew attention away from what she'd almost said.

"I fixed you while I was working on your neck. I was just waiting for your body to notice." He shrugged. "Had to do something to pass the time."

And, just like that, Rose was furious again.

"Stupid alien git!" she declared and stalked off to the master bedroom which was now her room. The door slammed shut behind her. "You know," she told Diabla bitterly as she began to change into her pajama bottoms. "sometimes, I want nothing more than to never see him again." The door banged open barely two seconds after she said that, and Rose frantically clutched her t-shirt to her otherwise bare chest. The Doctor stood there, staring at her desperately, his eyes terrified.

"Oi! D'you mind?" Rose nearly screamed at him, shaking a hand for him to leave.

"Did you mean that?" he demanded wildly, stepping in and grasping her flailing arm in a grip that advertised his desire to never let go.

"Mean what?" Rose asked, exasperated and still somewhat frantic, her hand tightening its hold on the shirt. The Doctor met her eyes, and, suddenly, Rose felt completely naked.

"You said you never wanted to see me again," he whispered, still staring at her in fear, his hands tightening around hers. Rose felt her breath catch, and she smiled tenderly.

"Course I didn't," she whispered tenderly. Before she could say anything else, the Doctor crushed her to him as though trying to absorb her. Rose returned the embrace awkwardly, one hand strapped between them still clutching the shirt. But, though the hug may be clumsy in nature, all of the passion was returned. "Never gonna leave you."

"Good," he murmured. Stepping back so he could meet her eyes. "I don't wanna let you go." He raked his gaze over her form and Rose could see his pupils dilate as a flush flooded her skin. He came forward again his gaze on her lips. Rose closed her eyes, only to slam them back open when she felt his kiss on her forehead.

"Get some sleep, love," he told her. "The painters will be here early tomorrow." Rose nodded dumbly and watched him leave.

* * *

The Doctor frowned at the scene before him. He wanted to retreat to the TARDIS and his pinstripes. In fact, he'd tried to, but She'd locked him out. So he stood in the doorway of the room that had initially been Rose's, glowering at the men who ignored him in favor of Rose.

He didn't blame them. He'd rather watch Rose than himself as well. But he had the right. His hand slipped into his pocket to stroke the box. She'd promised him forever, and he had to take her word at that. Even when she volunteered to help the painters. Even when she obligingly handed them all sorts of things that had fallen to the ground, revealing her curves. Even, and this burned the most, when she laughed at their jokes, smiled at their flirtatious comments, and didn't notice him watching.

Remembering why he didn't like murder was becoming difficult. One of the painters glanced over at him and froze mid-chuckle at the cold glare he was being given. Curious, Rose glanced back at him, but all she received was a smile that heated her throughout.

Noon came, and the workers all went to lunch. The Doctor brought Rose a sandwich and proposed a picnic in the nearly completed room. He received a winning smile, her tongue poking out and realized that, though she had smiled at the painters, never had her tongue come into the picture. A fierce wave of possessive affection and pride swept through him.

And then it happened. Afterwards, they would never be able to explain it. A strip of tape that lined the corner where the wall met the ceiling and was wet with fresh paint un-adhered itself and swung down to smear Rose's cheek with "Heather Fields." She jumped and then laughed at her own skittishness. The Doctor grabbed a rag that the painters used to wipe paint off their hands, and brought it to Rose's face.

"See?" he asked playfully. "Jeopardy friendly."

Rose laughed as he brushed most of the paint off. Her eyes gleamed at him like a newly washed apple, cheery and full of temptation. He brushed his thumb lightly over her lower lip. And she licked the small offering of his taste that he'd left for her. Utterly captivated, he leaned forward. She didn't pull back. She should, didn't she know how dangerous he was? But she never had cared, always dove in head first and dragged him kicking and screaming towards the light. And somehow, through this she'd become the light and he a moth, and there was no turning back now. No stopping this.

Their lips met with all the force of a butterfly's breath. Rose sighed and the Doctor instinctively deepened the kiss, pulling her to him. She met him with equal force. She sucked and nibbled on his lower lip, and he groaned.

It was the sound that caused them both to freeze. He would grow to hate his inability to remain quiet. Tenderly, they drew apart and stared at each other in confusion and wonder. The Doctor wanted to shout to the heavens of every religion in the galaxy that she hadn't run. She smiled tentatively at him and he beamed. He felt her relax when she saw his grin and her smile grew more bold. Confidently, crowing inside, he swooped down for another brief meeting of lips. Before looking her seriously in the eye.

"We shouldn't do this." He saw her face fall and felt her muscles tense, but he tightened his hold until she heard the end of his sentence "Now. Your mom can't take it in her current condition." Rose relaxed and a shy smile returned. "I'll make her better, and then we can really pursue this."

"I think I should tell you," Rose began with growing frustration and confusion and effervescent happiness. "I don't think there's anything to make better." She pressed a kiss to his lips. "She's faking."

* * *


	10. Not So Much Faking

_A/N - Okay, so I, **SilverWolf7**, was caught out with the shoddy attempt to forge us the rightful owners of Doctor Who. Don't worry, I ripped that up and threw it away and am now checking uder the lounge covers to see if it might have fallen down there...the others have already checked their lounges, so I thought it about time I checked mine...and, nope, not under there. Sorry guys!_

_My fellow authors are **Kathryn Shadow, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, NewDrWhoFan, Isis the Sphinx** and **Jessa L'Rynn**__**.** We hope you enjoy our work!_

* * *

**_Chapter 10: Not So Much Faking_**

The Doctor blinked at her, opened his mouth to say something, clicked it shut in a way that she was sure the painters off on their lunch break could probably hear, and blinked again. "She's what?" he asked her, before doing his rather impressive fish impersonation again.

"Faking. You know, pretending to be crazy, not really is crazy. Which in some ways is really good, but in others...very frustrating."

"But...why would she do that? What in the world is her reasoning for it? Why fake being crazy?"

Shrugging, Rose leant into him, wanting more than anything to just tilt her head back, connect her lips with his and snog them both utterly senseless. Her lips were on his again before she had time to think.

A low moan passed from his lips at the move, and made Rose wish that she could continue, but the noise right now would alert her mum, and her mum was the last thing right now she wanted to have to deal with. Because the Doctor was right. Why was she faking being insane and worrying her senseless like that?

On the other hand, snogging the Doctor senseless had its appeal. Not to mention how good he looked in those jeans, and how tight they were in certain areas. And here she was, still lip locked with him.

They broke apart, licking their lips and wishing nothing but to clamp on to each other again.

"Umm, I'm just...going now. Away. Before we do this again and get your mum involved even further than she already is," the Doctor stated, his face flushed lightly from the kiss and she couldn't help but look at his lips, slightly darker than normal.

"Yeah. Me too. Helping the painters I am. Painters who should be coming back here any second now. Paint fumes must be getting to us."

"Paint...yeah. The paint. Fumes. Slightly intoxicating, reckless behaviour. Might be the reason for the sudden...high in here."

"High, yeah. High on paint fumes."

Well, it was at least a better explanation than 'Oh my god! I've wanted to do that for bloody ages!' which was going through her head. She wandered if it was what he was thinking too, as he turned around and slowly walked out of the room, dodging the painting crew as they come back in, finished with their lunch and wanting to get back to work, finish quickly so they could go home.

Home...

Rose never thought that she'd rather see the old flat again and be back there than here, in a proper house.

Shaking her head, she smiled at one of the younger workers on the crew and helped hold up the bit of tape that had recently slapped her in the face.

Maybe she was just plain cursed...

* * *

Being able to stand in the middle of a room and have no one see you was just as much a blessing sometimes as a curse.

Having finally gotten the hang of moving things in the real world around him, Mortimer was conducting a few experiments here and there. The latest was to peel back the slightest bit of wet tape to see what happened. Thankfully, it had hit his young niece right on the face, and this Doctor fellow of hers helped get it off with a rag, before kissing her.

Fantastic! That's good. The quicker those two got together, the quicker Jackie would stop talking to his imaginary self. The tripping of the two lovebirds which he had given the task to Lovey, had also worked quite well.

The Doctor was quite attracted to his niece thankfully, and there was no hiding certain reactions when someone was lying right across your lap on the floor. Unless said person normally walked around with items like sonic screwdrivers, socks and a banana in their pocket.

No wonder poor Rose seemed to be slightly confused.

Still, as the Doctor walked out of the room, Mortimer following him instead of watching Rose, he recognised the silly grin on the lad's face. He also didn't miss the adjusting of his jeans, or the way he ruffled his hair more, like he had spotted the man did when he was feeling especially good about himself.

The minute things got inappropriate in his house, he was going to throw books. Heavy books. Right at very sensitive areas. Not that he was against sex, he wasn't, and if it made Rose happy then by all means, but the last thing he wanted to see was this Doctor fellow on his lounge doing things by himself that were best left for him to do in the shower instead.

Still, at least they were at the point where they actually knew each others feelings now, hopefully. Please say they both knew it was a mutual attraction?

Mortimer left the Doctor to his ship, where it was parked in the shed. He knew by now that the man was an alien, if not for listening to Jackie's ranting talks about it to the invisible air around her she was pretending was him.

He hadn't yet entered the ship though. He had the odd feeling that it would be intruding on more than just the Doctor's personal space. Jackie had been heard muttering that the ship was alive. Maybe that was it?

Either way, whenever the Doctor went in there, he left him alone, and went off to find Lovey. Next stage of his plan was to get Jackie to notice that things were now moving forwards in leaps and bounds.

And he knew Lovey was always up for helping him do something a little...devious.

* * *

Something wasn't quite...right with the house anymore. Not since she had spotted her daughter and the Doctor falling in a heap of heated flesh and driving hormones on the floor and found them apart next time they met when she had gone running to catch them in the act.

It was almost like there was another inhabitant that she couldn't always see, and for a few seconds every now and then, she could _swear_ she saw her Uncle Mortimer watching them with hawk like eyes, trying to help her get them together in any way necessary.

Yep, she knew it, living with the Doctor for any stretch of time would driver her crazy, and here's the proof. She'd gone from pretending to see the ghost of Uncle Mortimer to really seeing the ghost of Uncle Mortimer.

Well, at least some of the time. Most of the time she was blessedly alone with her own thoughts and plans as to how to get the two together and into bed with each other.

How long did it take for two people in love with each other to shag each other senseless? Not long she hoped. The quicker she could stop pretending to be nuts the quicker she hoped Uncle Mortimer would go away, because it was starting to freak her out.

And speaking of, there he was again, floating aimlessly near her, frowning. His lips were moving but she couldn't hear what he was saying.

Probably that she should be out looking after them and pushing them together so they could get a bloody hint already. Especially Rose, who seemed to be utterly clueless to everything.

She really hoped that she hadn't raised her daughter that badly.

* * *

"Yes!" The Doctor shouted loudly as soon as the doors of the TARDIS closed behind him. He threw his hands in the air, and feeling rather energetic and childish, rushed himself around the console a few times, giggling madly the entire time.

The TARDIS asked what the hell was wrong with him.

"Oh, girl, nothing's wrong! Everything's brilliant, fantastic, perfect! Rose kissed me! I kissed her. We kissed each other. There was tongue involved. The exchange of bodily fluids. Between me and Rose!"

The Doctor squeed. He didn't exactly know what the word squee meant just yet, but he had seen it used frequently over the internet. And it seemed to fit with what he was doing now perfectly. So, he squeed.

The TARDIS tried to calm him down, but like an adolescent kissed for the first time, there was no stopping the dizzying high he was in. The TARDIS decided She blamed the paint fumes. The Doctor decided it was all part of his charm, and style and hair, and decided that the reason they had kissed was because he was just too cute and no one could resist his charms.

Heck, even Jackie Tyler had been ogling him. In both the bodies she had known him as. So, he must definitely have charm. Too bad about his previous self having next to no hair. Yet again, the soldier look had gone well with his ninth incarnation.

It had felt right at any rate.

"So!" he said when he had calmed down a bit from his mad race around the console. "Did you know anything about Jackie faking seeing ghosts? Seems Rose had come to the conclusion her mum really isn't crazy. Now either there really is no problem like she says, or she is in denial. What do you think?"

_I think evaluations need to be looked at over again._ The TARDIS replied. Her data showed nothing wrong, but that didn't mean Jackie wasn't seeing ghosts.

"Hmm. Think there might be something there she's not telling us?"

_Perhaps._

The Doctor sighed. "Well, you're a big help in all this, aren't you?"

He got stony silence as a reply. He rolled his eyes. "Sorry. No need to feel insulted. None of us know what's really going on but Jackie. And she's not telling at the moment."

_Maybe you should ask her about her Uncle then._

"Yes, yes, I should do that. Tonight. As soon as possible. I'm sort of..." He ran a quick diagnostic of his own body and blushed. "Well, umm, kind of, yeah. And the paint really didn't help matters much."

The TARDIS hummed at him in what she hoped was slightly berating, but still comforting tones. The last thing he needed was to get scared off and never go any further with Rose. Because She liked the human girl.

The good news here was, it seemed like things were going nicely between her pilot and the human girl.

Now if only She could make them a nice dinner for two, put on some mood lighting and music and get them to mate...

* * *


	11. Electricity & Inclemency

_Hello again! **Kathryn Shadow** here (it's Saturday again). Did you miss me? No? 'Course not._

_In light of our Aussie's failed attempt at forgery, I asked the Ecclesclone I know of if he would accompany us in our Quest Into My Basement. He gave me an odd look. We're still formulating Plan B, and by us I mean myself, and yes, I'm referring to myself in the plural. Muahaha._

_Also, do I get kudos for not only ceasing to be stupid and figuring out what was alluded to with TCASM's patch of earth, but also beginning to allude to it further?_

_**WARNING: **I was confident enough about this chapter to not have it betaed. Be afraid. Be VERY afraid._

_A/N: Welcome to our little project. One chapter per day will be uploaded by a member of our team. My fellow authors are **SilverWolf7, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, NewDrWhoFan, Isis the Sphinx** and **Jessa L'Rynn. **We hope you enjoy our work!_

* * *

**_Chapter 11: Electricity & Inclemency_**

Rose paced, sat down, stood up, walked around in circles, drummed her fingers on the nearest wall, tried to sit down, missed the chair, fell with a sort of startled squeak, got up, walked around in circles again, sat down, hit the chair, and tried very hard to remain sedentary. She oscillated slightly, but all in all considered her attempt some sort of a success.

She wasn't actually entirely sure of what was causing her inability to sit still. Her inexperienced unrest-diagnostic device tentatively theorized that it might be a combination of ecstasy, nervousness, concern, outright terror, hope, and paint fumes that had all come together and shorted out something in those synapses controlling bodily movement. She would have been inclined to agree had the rest of her mind actually cared about what the aforementioned device had to say.

The point was, of course, that the Doctor had kissed her. Or maybe it was the other way around. Was it the other way around? She couldn't remember. At any rate, there had been distinct oral contact with the last surviving Time Lord (that they knew of; Rose still wasn't convinced that he was the only one left. She wasn't entirely sure why she thought this, but all the same the nagging suspicion remained).

Rose squeed because she knew what it meant.

Branching off from that point were several sub-points. Another thing she wasn't convinced of was that the Doctor would, in fact, stay. They'd snogged and he'd enjoyed it, obviously (she squeed again and wriggled slightly in such a manner as would actually induce the Doctor to be jealous of a chair, which was a sensation he'd gotten fairly used to pretty much ever since Rose had first sat down in his presence), but with him there was no telling what might happen Now. He might have acquiesced to staying here for her sake Before, but Now? She wasn't sure. She'd chained him down enough Before, and Now he might run screaming in the other direction. It wouldn't have been the first time someone had done that to her, and the Doctor seemed to be an even more likely candidate for the action.

Which might actually mean that he wouldn't do it at all. Things had been moving exactly opposite to her expectations for the last few days; the Doctor was being faintly domestic, she'd snogged him, he'd actually enjoyed it, and her mum wasn't insane. Things were, in fact, distinctly weird.

Diabla tried to jump up on her at exactly the point where Rose's willpower failed her utterly and she stood up. As a result, the cat collided with her thighs, bounced off and revolved in an odd sort of half-backflip as she was driven by her own momentum added to Rose's. She had apparently never gotten the memo about cats always landing on their feet, either, as was proven by her dramatic encounter with the floor. She made an odd sort of yelp.

"You all right?" Rose asked her.

She blinked sweetly from where she was twisted nearly 180 degrees. The human took that as a yes, and resumed walking in circles.

Walking in circles was okay. Walking in circles was good, actually. It meant that she wasn't running straight into the TARDIS to seek the Doctor out and completely confirm her suspicion that he actually liked snogging her and would like to do so more. And, of course, answer a great deal of the less generally acceptable questions that had been whirling through her head pretty much since she'd learned he was an alien— questions which cannot, of course, be described in detail, as their content is outlawed on sixty-seven planets in the ZZ9 Plural Z Alpha sector alone.

Rose swallowed jerkily, stood there in the middle of the room and twitched.

Lovey watched her from the corner, eyes narrowing. She knew what Jackie wanted to do. She knew what Rose and the Doctor wanted to do. She knew what Mortimer wanted her to do. She also knew how to bring it about, as she was a cat who had an IQ which would make the most brilliant MENSA candidates gibber and grovel at her paws. (She knew that too, of course.)

She just wasn't sure that she wanted to do it. She was Lovey, after all. She was inherently evil, inherently rebellious. She had actually been quite happy with going along with Mortimer's plans, simply because it made the Doctor and Rose uncomfortable and it amused her to see Jackie thwarted so; but now that her late owner (Of course she understood he was dead. She, incidentally, was at fault for that, and would never be caught feeling at all guilty for it. He had forgotten to feed her, after all, and watching his ghost's reaction had been absolutely hilarious. The thing that separated her from a great deal of other people who saw, heard or generally knew about ghosts was that she didn't really care what they were or why they were there. She was a very busy cat and had better things to think of than the habits of dead people) was so desperate about it all, and that success would no longer mean Jackie's frustration or the Doctor and Rose's distress, she of course wanted nothing to do with it. In fact, she would do everything in her considerable power against it.

She watched the human stand there and oscillate at a sufficient speed to make a low hum reverberate into Lovey's ears. Rose started pacing again, murmuring something to herself, and her unknown observer flicked her tail and smiled.

* * *

It is an important and well-known fact that mothers know things. They don't have to be told, they don't have to see something or hear something or anything to know it. Jacqueline Andrea Suzette Tyler wasn't, isn't and never will be any different.

She knew something had happened. She wasn't sure what, but she could feel it, sense it— little electric shocks zinging along her metaphysical self where there had been none before, silence where there had been chaos and everything where there had been nothing at all. She knew something had happened, and since she hadn't done anything, she knew it had something to do with the Doctor and/or Rose, and her spirits suddenly decided to attempt to break the ceiling (although she didn't really want to think about that, as there were some rather impressive clouds gathering outside and, in light of a more thorough exploration of the house and its varied quirks and weaknesses, she really wasn't sure that it would make it through intact) as she ran to her daughter's bedroom.

Nothing.

The Doctor's bedroom.

Still nothing.

The TARDIS.

She got halfway there (There was a wet patch of ground that hadn't been there before. Had she actually had any experience with old houses an their varied quirks, she would have been concerned about this and noticed and duly worried about the slight, offending stench that was beginning to seep from the evil-looking mud) and then decided to only check her as a last resort. There were so many rooms in her it might take millennia, and if they weren't, in fact, there, she would completely fail her purpose in looking.

She went back inside and looked in less obvious places, and eventually found her daughter. Her daughter, pacing, stepping over a cat and oblivious of the other, completely clothed and completely alone.

Funny how that irritated her now. Rose's current state had previously been Jackie's favorite when it came to her offspring.

She made an odd sort of irritated noise in the back of her throat and stalked away. She'd figure out what had happened eventually. She always did. Right now, though, there were painters.

* * *

Those particular painters were not making the Doctor happy.

He was back from avoiding Rose to prevent him doing anything particularly stupid and completely failing to figure out why Jackie was pretending to be insane, which had both taken him about two minutes combined, and he had walked into the house again to see one of the idiots ogling Rose. She was, of course, leaning on the door-frame observing events and looking thoroughly ogleable, but that wasn't an excuse. There was ogling going on and there wasn't an excuse for it.

This, understandably, upset him. He was Rose's ogler. He had been for some time. He was, in fact, her snog-ogler now, which meant that she was exclusively his to snog/ogle, and they were therefore invading his territory.

He didn't like his territory invaded. He'd had other territories of his invaded, and conquered, and he wasn't going to watch it happen again. Especially not with this particular territory, as she was one of his most sacred.

One good thing about it, he supposed, was that she appeared to have not noticed this overstepping of boundaries on the part of the painter, and he didn't have to worry about her end of the ogling because there wasn't one. As far as he could tell. But she didn't know he was there, so if she had an end of the ogling, she wouldn't have had a reason to stop.

Dear Rassilon, he was sounding like a human. He grimaced at this, but wasn't entirely surprised. He'd been sounding human for months.

He stepped forwards, unnoticed, hovered for a moment behind her and a little to the side, and suddenly developed an intense dislike of paint. From this distance, he should have been able to detect the faint, sweet scent that permeated her skin. He could find a slight aroma of extra pheromones around her (damn him and his Time Lord senses— he was even more susceptible to them than human males) which made him feel both unquestionably smug and a little bit worried about his ability to control himself, but the rest of the arcane fragrance was swallowed up in the bitter-sour tang of pigment and chemicals.

Yet another reason to hate the painters.

He hovered there, so close that he could feel her warmth sending electric shocks through his skin, but not close enough to touch. He waited; he wasn't even sure why or for what… He just wanted to wait. Delay. Let anticipation prick at his skin just for a few seconds more…

He swallowed, trembling in the indescribable masochistic delight of refusing to surrender to her when he no longer had any reason to do so, before he gave in and embraced her. She jerked in surprise as his arms crossed over her stomach and he smiled quietly to himself for a reason even he didn't understand. His eyes abruptly hardened when he met those of the offending worker, but he relaxed again as she rested her hands over his and leaned into him, twisting slightly and tilting her head so she could look at him.

"H'lo," she informed him, voice barely audible.

"Hello," he replied. "How are you?"

She inhaled slightly as she considered. He reveled in the faint movement of her ribcage against his.

"Better," she eventually decided upon.

He couldn't quite reach her mouth from their current position, so he kissed her left eyelid instead. "Good."

They didn't notice at the time, but at that moment the clouds flickered and a slight rumble emerged from the inclement sky.


	12. A Storm Is Brewing

_Friends, Romans, Countrymen, Lend Me Your Ears: OOOOH! Doctor Who and Torchwood got those little character board thingies! Everybody make sure to set your stories so that we can fill in the character tabs! Now then, let's get going! So much time, so little to do! ...Wait, scratch that, reverse it; thank you, let's carry on!_

_Disclaimer: We ((meaning I, **The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, SilverWolf7, Kathryn Shadow, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, NewDrWhoFan, Isis the Sphinx** and **Jessa L'Rynn** ...Which isn't in order at all...Slightly annoying, but that could be the OCD talking!)) still don't own Doctor Who. Since KS's attempt to get her Ecclesclone to help failed ((I keep telling her, use jelly babies!ALL THE DOCTORS LOVE JELLY BABIES! ...Well, actually, I think chibi!One said he was allergic once...)) and Silver Wolf7's not the best at forgery, I have been planning a plan so wonderful no other plan could ever top my plan! See, it involves getting the Pr... -is bonked on the head by an anvil- ...Who are you? Where am I? And why does my head hurt? Ah well. -wanders off-_

* * *

_**Chapter 12: A Storm Is Brewing**_

The Doctor forgot about the worker. Honestly, it was hard to think of much of anything when he was - the parts of his mind where his Sixth and Ninth selves 'lived' flinched - cuddling with his favourite pink-and-yellow human. Though, after a certain point of watching the 'cute blonde chick' being held by the 'weird, nerdy guy', the worker had turned away.

The pair stood there for a long while, until Diabla noticed a little piece of fluffy-stuff attached to the Doctors elbow and decided she should get it off whether the people liked it or not. Which kinda sorta ruined the moment when the Doctor yelped when Diabla attacked his arm, and Rose tried - and failed - not to laugh at him. The Doctor pouted at her and she just dissolved further into giggles.

She forced herself to take several deep breaths before he backed away and stared at her like she was mad... Which reminded her of something. "What are we gonna do about mum?"

The Doctor, finally free of the fluff which Diabla was now chasing across the floor, blinked at her. "I thought you said there was nothing to do about her." That didn't sound quite right...

"Doctor, she's pretending to see ghosts. Which means something is wrong." Rose looked up at him. She had that worried look back on her face and the Doctor had to hug her again.

"Too much circular logic going on here. She's not crazy but she's acting crazy which means somethings wrong but nothings wrong but she's acting like s-" He stopped when Rose shot him a look. "It's starting to make me dizzy. Just can't figure out why she's doing this..."

Rose sighed and rested her head on his chest, listening to his double heartbeat. "Well, until we figure all this out we're stuck here."

He nodded silently, trying to work his brain around all the different parts, feeling for all the world that the missing piece to this puzzle would solve everything.

Something flickered in the corner of his eye and he involuntarily glanced over.

There was nothing.

* * *

Mortimer watched the couple standing in the middle of the room with a thoughtful look on his face, before calling Diabla back to him. The Doctor and Rose didn't notice the cat move across the room to stare at him.

Hell, he thought, it'd been a miracle they'd noticed each other. And judging by how slowly things were going, it'd be quite years before they actually went anywhere with it and put him and Jackie out of their miseries.

Speaking of Jackie... she was becoming a road-block in her own plan. Something had to be done if this was to go anywhere, and be done quickly.

He looked down at Diabla, who'd curled up at his feet and was still looking up at him.

They had work to do.

* * *

A while later, Jackie watched with a raised eyebrow as Diabla sniffed at the floor, jerked her head back, leant in to sniff again, jerked back, and repeated several times before Jackie got tired of watching and rolled her eyes at the strange little creature.

Then she turned back to the object in her hands. It wouldn't be important, normally, but now, to her, it was. The tiny little bronze bell shone innocently, a piece of wire still attached to the hoop. She still glared at it as if it would confess exactly what it was doing in the corner and not attached to the rest of the wire, doing its job.

Wrinkling her nose at it, she set it on the nightstand, next to where she'd seen it glittering away lazily, and sat on the bed.

...Did it mean she'd missed something? Jackie absently petted Diabla when she crawled up into her lap. She could tell something was different about the Doctor and her daughter, but she wasn't sure if it was the different she wanted them to go towards. Maybe they were plotting to throw her in a nut house and take off into that blue box of theirs...

She would have followed that train of thought further, but then there was a crash of thunder which all but shook the house and the lights flickered for a moment.

Jackie looked up at them as, outside, the sky opened and it started to rain.


	13. Water, Water Everywhere

_A/N: **NewDrWhoFan** here with your Tuesday update; sorry about Monday, but **Isis the Sphinx** should be back next week. Our fellow authors are: **The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, Jessa L'Rynn, Kathryn Shadow, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, **and **SilverWolf7 **_(_who are at least in alphabetical order, if not chronological). We hope you enjoy our work!_

_Thanks to GSRgirlforever for beta-ing this for me :)_

_Disclaimer: I have neither clones nor chibis at my residence, but I have got a toddler. She supposedly outgrew the eating paper phase about six months ago, but given a certain rather important piece of paper's sudden disappearance, I find myself forced to reassess that assumption. I am also, therefore, compelled to announce that we do not own Doctor Who._

* * *

_**Chapter 13: Water, Water Everywhere**_

Rose jumped slightly as the thunder shook the house. She pulled back from the Doctor as they both watched the lights flicker. Rose looked across into the living room to see the rain beating on the windows. (They'd hidden her bedroom window in order to avoid any awkward questions from the painters.) It looked like the beginnings of a spectacular summer storm.

The Doctor leaned in over her shoulder to get a look as well. "Looks like it's really coming down," he observed.

"I'll say," she agreed. "Good thing we didn't have any outdoor plans for this afternoon."

It was her Mum's voice that answered. "So much for tacklin' those rosebushes," she announced, walking into the hallway from the dining room.

The Doctor quickly removed his hand from the small of Rose's back as the two turned to face Jackie.

Fortunately for the jittery Time Lord, Rose saw that her Mum was already leaning against her bedroom doorframe, unabashedly ogling the painters.

* * *

Mortimer sighed. Jackie was still under the misguided impression that she needed to prod those two together, when all they really needed was a few minutes' peace.

He left the hallway and took a seat in his favorite old chair in the living room, calling Diabla and Lovey over to him.

"Alright ladies," he said, looking the cats seriously in the eyes, "here's the plan." He shook his head to himself. "Can't believe I'm doing this, but the young couple needs some time alone. So, I'm going to get them all out of the house for a bit, while you two scrounge around for the most disgusting little presents you can find." Jackie's painting idea had gone halfway towards what Mortimer hoped to achieve with the help of his feline friends. "Make that couch un-sleepable. You got me?"

Diabla nuzzled up against the recliner, where Mortimer's leg would have been if it were solid.

Lovey flicked her tail and blinked innocently.

* * *

The Doctor was helping the painters carry their equipment out to their truck when lightning flashed and another deafening peal of thunder sounded. It was followed almost immediately by a crash from the far side of the house. He ran along the front porch to the swing, peering around the corner at the yard beyond.

A tree branch had fallen, disconnecting the power lines from the house.

Sure enough, the house was dark when he walked back inside. "Everyone alright?" the Doctor called.

"Yeah," Rose answered. In the dim light, he could make out Rose and Jackie rummaging through the dining room cupboards. "Mum said there were some hurricane lamps in here, somewhere," she informed him.

"The lines are down outside," the Doctor said. "You might want to let the power company know."

"I've got it," said Jackie, pulling out her mobile. "Rose, love, I'm sure I saw 'em in there," she said as she turned away, giving her attention to her phone call.

Sure enough, three lamps were found, but only one contained any oil. Rose lit the one, while Jackie went off with a small torch to search the kitchen and mud room for more lamp oil.

"Could we borrow your light?" the Doctor asked Rose. "There's a bit more left to move out of your room."

"Sure," Rose said, leading the way with the lamp.

The painters were carrying out a large ladder, leaving only a small bench for the Doctor to remove. Rose stood in the doorway with the lamp, while the Doctor hoisted the bench over one shoulder. Not one to pass up the opportunity, and able to discern the sounds of Jackie's search from the far side of the house, he leaned in to give Rose a quick kiss as he exited the room.

* * *

It took Rose more concentration than she realized she had not to drop the lamp when the Doctor kissed her. Fortunately, she surprised herself, and with lamp safely in hand followed him out to the front door.

This had been quite an afternoon, Rose thought.

First, the Doctor's odder-than-normal behavior had culminated in their little snogging session over lunch. Then, after his disappearance (during which Rose had run through the gamut of possibilities of "what's he thinking now"), he'd returned to just hold her for no particular reason. And now, she'd gotten another kiss with just as little explanation.

No, she didn't think he'd be running any time soon, she mused, with a smile on her face.

The Doctor climbed the steps back up onto the porch, shaking the rain from his hair like a wet dog as the painters drove away.

"What?" he asked.

Rose realized she must have been staring. Coming back to herself, she walked up to him, intending to lend some assistance in the hair-ruffling department.

Until her Mum called. "I found it!" she shouted from inside the house.

Rose huffed out a small, frustrated breath, but the Doctor smiled. "Shall we?" he asked, reaching for her free hand. "Before she burns the house down?"

* * *

Jackie was just lighting the final lamp when Rose and the Doctor reentered the house. Hand in hand, she noted.

"Painters gone, then?" she asked.

"Yup," the Doctor answered. "Just left."

She looked up at him. "You're makin' a puddle on the floor," she informed him, noticing the water dripping from his clothes. "Go get dried off, an' we'll go out for dinner."

"Thought you didn't wanna go out again, for a while," said Rose, as the Doctor obediently headed for the bedroom.

"Well, the power company said they can't send anyone out durin' the storm, an' the stove's electric," Jackie answered. "Nothin' fancy this time, but we're gettin' outta the house."

* * *

Lovey followed the Doctor into the master bedroom.

She had no objections to following Mortimer's instructions, as far as they went. Hunting was one of her favorite activities, mostly because of the alarmed reactions her catches inspired when they were eventually discovered in various locations in and around the house.

But to so blatantly set up the happy couple... it somehow went against everything she stood for.

So it was with a great measure of evil delight that she eyed the slightly discolored ceiling over the Doctor's head. Oh, yes. She'd happily make the couch un-sleepable, now.

* * *

The Doctor was having a hard time deciding which situation was more desirable. Was it a fancy dinner in a fancy restaurant, sitting next to a Rose dressed in formal wear and completely oblivious to his feelings towards her? Or was it a simple dinner in a chippie, sitting next to a Rose dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and completely responsive to every touch and look he sent her way?

Who was he trying to kid? Obviously the latter.

Of course, either situation would have been drastically improved if Jackie weren't sitting on the opposite side of the table.

Or if she weren't seated next to her dearly departed Great-Uncle Mortimer.

How was he ever going to get Rose alone long enough to let her know what he really wanted for them, if Jackie insisted on keeping up this act? What did the woman want? Attention? Did she just miss Rose? Why was he allowed to stay if she just wanted her daughter around... or would getting rid of him be next on her agenda?

Maybe they should just have her committed. That should teach her.

Rose nudged his arm gently, and he looked up from her worried expression to see Jackie thoroughly immersed in a conversation with Uncle about how he used to like his chips.

Okay, so maybe not the nut house. They'd just have to treat this like any other adventure. Solve the mystery, save the day. He could do this.

* * *

Mortimer heard the car approaching, and gave the couch a satisfied once over as he leaned back in his recliner.

It was dark, and not just from the storm that still raged, when the trio entered through the front door. Mortimer heard them fussing over the lamp by the doorway, a strange blue light shining from the hall before the lamp was lit - the Doctor's screwdriver, he assumed. He wasn't sure if it was part of the Doctor's alien gadgets, or just a newfangled piece of hardware, but it did seem to come in handy.

The Doctor led the way into the living room, setting the lamp on the carousel table, before backing up to sit on the couch.

He jumped back up to his feet with a satisfying yelp.

Mortimer chuckled, silently.

"What's wrong?" Rose asked.

The Doctor snatched up the lamp for a closer inspection. "That," he said, "is a dead opossum, if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh, those cats," said Jackie, looking down over the back of the couch.

"And a squirrel, and a mouse, and a bird," the Doctor added.

Mortimer slapped his thigh and laughed out loud, which, fortunately, was still silently.

"What's that smell?" Rose asked.

"I don't want to say," the Doctor replied.

"Right," Jackie told him. "Well, you're not sleepin' out here."

"It's fine," the Doctor said. "Like I told you before, I can just sleep in the TARDIS."

"An' have you sneakin' off to who knows where in the middle of the night?" Jackie asked. "I don't think so. You can share with Rose."

Mortimer could see both of the young people's jaws drop.

"But no funny business," Jackie added. "I'll be right next door, for cryin' out loud," she muttered, taking the lamp from the Doctor and heading off towards her bedroom.

"Where's Uncle Morty going to sleep?" the Doctor asked.

Mortimer watched in amusement as Jackie came to a halt. Had she been caught out at last?

"He's offered to take the recliner," she said, without turning around. "And don't call 'im 'Morty', he hates it," she added, stalking away unperturbed.

So close.

He turned his attention back to Rose and the Doctor. Mortimer's confidence in the young couple was increased tenfold by their obvious unease. This wasn't a situation to which they were accustomed.

"Is that alright?" the Doctor asked Rose after a moment.

She hesitated, but said, "Yeah, s'not like we haven't shared a bed before, right?"

Mortimer quirked an eyebrow at that.

"Right," the Doctor answered, pulling out his screwdriver and illuminating the room with its blue light. "Right. After you, then," he said, ushering her out of the room.

Mortimer leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, listening to the rain and occasional thunder claps. _Finally, some progress_, he thought.

And then, someone shrieked.

* * *

Rose couldn't believe it.

Oh, the caved-in ceiling and waterlogged bed and floor were perfectly believable. What got her was the Doctor. "Just like a little girl," she laughed.

"It _wasn't_ a scream," he insisted. "It was a perfectly dignified expression of surprise."

"I'm seein' pigtails, frilly skirt."

Jackie emerged from her room in a bathrobe. "Who's screamin' like a banshee?" she demanded.

"Told ya," Rose said, triumphantly.

Jackie bustled her way between the two of them, surveying the damage. "Well, get your clothes out o' there, before everythin' gets soaked," she ordered.

_So much for sharing a bed_, thought Rose. Of course, where were they going to sleep now?

She repeated her question aloud.

"In that bloody ship of his," Jackie answered, as if it were obvious.

"Ah, excellent," said the Doctor, handing a suitcase to Rose. He'd left her in the doorway, while he ventured into the deeper waters in the room.

"I'll go pack my bag," said Jackie as she headed back to her bedroom.

"Mum?" Rose asked.

"Well, I'm not lettin' you two go on your own, now am I?" she said, as if that answered everything.

The Doctor came to stand at Rose's side in the hall, just as Jackie's door closed behind her.

"She's comin', too," Rose informed him.

"Fantastic," the Doctor muttered, with far less enthusiasm than the word usually had when falling from his lips.

* * *

The Doctor led the way across the squelching ground towards the shed, ineffectually dodging raindrops as he went. He opened the door to the TARDIS - a bit awkwardly, thanks to the numerous bags he was carrying for Jackie - and let the women in ahead of him. He thought he felt something else brush by, and looked down to ensure neither of the cats had followed them from the house. Satisfied that the ship would remain feline-free, he maneuvered himself across the threshold and pushed the doors closed.

He smiled, not only glad to be back in his magnificent ship, but pleased to see Rose affectionately patting the console.

"Why's it so dark?" Jackie asked.

The Doctor hefted the bags, and strode up the entry ramp. "She's operating on emergency power," he told her, "so that - so she won't be detected." No need to go into specifics, he reasoned.

"C'mon, Mum," Rose said, nodding towards the corridor. "Let's find you a room."

The Doctor was pleased to see the TARDIS was polite enough to his prospective mother-in-law (he still shuddered at the phrase, but it was at least coming more easily to mind), giving her a room near the kitchen and a lounge.

They deposited her luggage, then the Doctor retreated into the corridor while Rose said goodnight to Jackie. He could tell the woman was reluctant to just let her daughter go. She kept throwing glances his way, as If trying to figure out how she could keep tabs on them through the night.

He suddenly recalled the bronze bell.

"Well, good night, Jackie," he said, abruptly. "Coming, Rose?" he added with his hand outstretched, just for Jackie's benefit.

To Jackie's obvious consternation, Rose took his proffered hand with a quick "G'night, Mum", and left, closing the door behind her.

"I've got a theory," he told Rose, as he walked her to her room. "Part of a theory, anyway."

"What, 'bout Mum?" she asked.

"Mm-hm," he said. "I think…" he hesitated, but ever more certain the more he thought about it, continued. "I think she's hoping to catch us."

Rose raised an eyebrow.

"At…" he cleared his throat, "something."

She smirked. He knew she knew exactly what he was trying to imply, but she still had the audacity to ask, "Like what?"

They'd reached her room, but Rose stood in the corridor with her back to the door.

The Doctor glanced quickly down the corridor to make sure they hadn't been followed, then stepped up close to Rose.

He watched, immensely pleased with himself, as her eyes darted to his lips. Well, it wouldn't do for Jackie to so easily succeed. He reached around Rose and opened the door, escorting her quickly into the more private confines of the room.

"Like this," he told her, moving in, trapping her between himself and the wall beside the door.

Her hands on his chest were in no way trying to push him away, so he leaned in to capture her lips with his own.

His hands moved to her waist, as hers slid up into his still damp hair. He vaguely registered a low moan escaping his throat as she parted her lips, a tiny fraction of his Time Lord brain that wasn't devoted completely to Rose at the moment filing the information away with instructions to research the art of stealth-kissing.

And then Rose moaned.

The Doctor quickly, though reluctantly, pulled away, lest Jackie catch them at more _something_ than the _something_ he had been demonstrating.

Resting his forehead against hers, he watched as she caught her breath, her eyes still closed. He kissed her cheek, whispering "Good night" before he stepped completely away.

"G'night," she answered, with a quick lick of her lips as she watched him leave.

* * *

Having gotten more than enough sleep over the past - had it been almost two weeks already? - the Doctor headed back towards the console room.

He most definitely did not skip down the corridor. He'd nearly tripped, right there, that's all.

Approaching the console, he activated the monitor. "So, pick up anything new?" he asked the TARDIS.

_"Besides Jackie's frustration, and your and Rose's rather opposite emotions?"_

He had the decency to blush slightly.

_"As a matter of fact, I have."_

"Something really is wrong with Jackie?" he asked.

_"Not so much." _

"What, then?"

_"Uncle Mortimer's real."_

...

_"And he's onboard right now."_

* * *


	14. From Bad to Worse

_Author's Two Cents: Once upon a time, there were seven writers, and they were **The Chibi's Are Stalking Me**, **Isis the Sphinx**, **Kathryn Shadow**, **NewDrWhoFan**, **Olfactory-Ventriloquism**,** SilverWolf7**, and me, **Jessa L'Rynn**. And although these writers were very, very nice and asked the good fairy to please, please give them Doctor Who, the fairy turned it over to the Man Without a Dictionary instead. And these writers sighed, and decided to come up with Plan X (Plans A-W having failed or been abandoned). And as soon as we do, we'll let you know what it is. In the meantime, please enjoy this latest jaunt in the on-going saga of Jackie's house in Wales._

* * *

**_Chapter 14: From Bad to Worse_**

The Doctor stared at the central column in abject astonishment. "You what?" he yelped.

The TARDIS chimed annoyance. She hated repeating herself. His fingers reached for several different controls at once, flipping switches, turning dials. He punched a series of keys and started the diagnostic sub-routine. The TARDIS turned it off. He turned it back on.

"You are not supposed to see ghosts," he insisted, frantically, after they did this three more times.

_"Well, obviously,"_ She agreed. _"So don't you think you should be finding out why he's here?"_

"But..." He jerked his hands through his hair, tugging at it in confusion. "What do I do now?" he demanded of... well, he didn't know who, but whoever it was, they didn't answer, of course. "First Jackie's seeing ghosts, and now my TARDIS?"

_"How many times do I have to tell you? I am not __your_ _TARDIS. I am __my__ TARDIS and you are __my __Time Lord._"

"Do you really think this is the time to be debating semantics?" he asked.

She chimed at him, a grating noise of abject despair. _"I raised you wrong,"_ She announced and he felt her consciousness wander off into the depths of the corridors.

He turned the sub-routine back on, and ran the sonic screwdriver over himself just to be sure. It was possible the TARDIS's behavior was simply a reflection of his own insanity. He usually had it under control, but maybe if he was going 'round the twist - the rest of the way - the Ship might go weird as well.

Nothing unusual showed up on the screwdriver, except for an absurdly high volume of hormones and pheromones, but he'd been expecting that, anyway. "That's what you get, for letting the idea loose, before you had it all sorted," he muttered to himself. "Randy old man."

"Who's a randy old man?" Rose asked, coming into the Console Room in her dressing gown, grinning at him with her tongue poking through her teeth.

He stared up at the ceiling. "I hate you," he told the TARDIS.

_"No you don't,"_ She answered, chiming merrily. _"You're just saying that to make me feel better."_

"Are you two arguing again?" Rose asked him, a glitter in her dark eyes that reminded him exactly who the randy old man was. "Sometimes, you're like a couple of kids."

"Aren't you supposed to be asleep?" he asked. He just asked, he wasn't whinging. The Last of the Time Lords didn't whinge just because his ship was crazy and his almost-a-mother-in-law was crazy, and the woman he'd set both his hearts (and a great deal of the rest of his physiology) on was standing in front of him in a mint green, flimsy excuse for a dressing gown, and he couldn't do a damn thing about any of it.

"She came and got me," Rose said, pointing at the ceiling. "Said you needed me. What's wrong?" She came over and put her hand on his face, a tender, gentle gesture that made him just want to sink into her arms and drown himself.

"Your mother is contagious," he admitted, before he surrendered to the temptation to ask the TARDIS to shut Jackie's wing of the Ship off from the rest of the Universe. His luck, She'd comply that far, and then pipe in video feed.

"How do you mean? Half the Universe is gonna suddenly come over with the urge to slap you or something?"

He thought about it. "God no, not that," he complained. "Or snog-ogling me, I don't want that either, actually. I mean, I've already made a list of the person I want snogging and ogling me and your mum's not on it, although if I had to make a list of people I wanted slapping me..." Rose moved closer and his pitch went higher. His speech also sped up. "...she wouldn't be on it, either, considering that slap of hers is heavy weapons grade and, I swear to you, there are entire races in distant corners of the Universe who have never even heard of Earth, but still live in mortal fear of the slap of Jackie Ty..."

Rose apparently realized that his gob was stuck on 'ramble', and had at long last discovered the cure. Her hand traveled to the back of his neck, toying with the kiss curls they found, and all at once, she was tugging his head down and then her lips were over his and his gob suddenly and fantastically found better things to do. She kissed him thoroughly, full body contact, pressing against him, her hand tracing up into his hair as soon as she realized he wasn't going any where. His hands, completely of their own volition, wandered under her dressing gown and, liking what they found there (absolutely nothing, so far) decided to stay and set up camp.

Someone whimpered while her tongue made an extensive investigation of the inside of his mouth. He suspected that might have been her. The deep moan came from him, along with the rather embarrassing purr as his respiratory bypass kicked in to deal with the sudden oxygen starvation of his brain. All the blood in his body had been rerouted, after all, and it was no where near his skull at the moment.

Didn't look like it was going there any time soon, either.

Then, she pulled back and looked at him closely, nodding in satisfaction as his tongue snaked over his lips, drawing in every last sip of her taste to savor it. "Better now?" she whispered, her eyes darker than usual and heavy-lidded as she smiled languidly at him.

He nodded, opened his mouth, couldn't speak. He cleared his throat, tried again. "...ler," he managed. He swallowed hard while she giggled at him. "Right. What was I saying?"

"Dunno," she said, softly, and ran her hand up his shirt, toying with the buttons as she went.

Just a little more pressure, he thought, and then he cleared his throat again. "Oh, yeah. The TARDIS says Uncle Mortimer is on board. Obviously, your mum isn't making it up and is contagious."

Rose sighed. "Did you even consider that She might be right?" Rose asked him.

He stared at her incredulously. "What?" he demanded. Not Rose, not his precious girl. He didn't want to have to patch her brilliantly clever little mind back together, too. "There's no such thing as ghosts," he said, gently. "It's impossible."

"You're always saying that word," Rose teased, cheekily. "I do not think that word means what you think it means."

He caught the reference immediately and rolled his eyes with a groan. "All right," he resigned himself, "if it isn't impossible, then what is it?"

"Well, is there alien tech that could make a ghost hang about?" she asked.

He stared at her in wonder. "Never leave me," he said, softly. He knew he was begging and he didn't care. He snatched her hands, tugged them to his mouth and kissed them both, then kissed her lips, lightly, chastely. "Just. Never leave me."

She smiled at him like sunrise. "OK," she said.

After a moment of just standing there, hands in hands, smiling at each other in mutual adoration, the Doctor shook himself and darted over to the databank. "Ok, a Dogon eye, a Kilacantri Restario, a series of Therall Loops, or a huge dose of Meesultin Powder are the things I know of that'll keep... not, a ghost, exactly, but say an imprint of a person after their death. It isn't the Loops, I'd've seen them, and I'm pretty sure... um, certain people would have detected the Restario years ago."

"What certain people?" Rose asked. Of course, she would immediately pick up on the bit he wanted to gloss over.

He tugged at his ear. "Well, you know. UNIT, I told you about them."

"UNIT?" she asked.

"Last body, Downing Street, Slitheen, remember?"

"Oh, right," she said. She blinked at him as he tugged at his ear some more. Her eyes narrowed and her hands went to her hips.

He realized what he was doing (giving himself away) and stopped it. Besides, the view was... exquisite (she had on matching knickers and an ickle tiny night top under that dressing gown and oh, hell, he couldn't breathe...), and he needed that hand to make sure he wasn't drooling. "All right. Let's see what we get."

He reached over and twisted the sphere where it glittered in the turquoise light. All the lights in the console room came up, almost blindingly.

* * *

In the nearby city of Cardiff, another bank of lights also lit up. The Doctor, had he known, might have been relieved to know that there was only one person awake at the time to notice.

Mind, if he had known, and known who the person was, relieved would not have been the word he would have used.

The word he would have used wasn't fit for publication on any planet.

Ever.

In the entire recorded history of time.

* * *

Mortimer had spent his first ten minutes on the TARDIS trying to figure out how the Doctor had managed to get a ginormous alien spaceship inside the lovingly, if not authentically, restored antique Police Box. Then, he'd spent the rest of the time, right up until this moment being, he thought, carefully confused by something that seemed to be watching him. Every time he tried to go anywhere, the corridors shifted and he found himself back in the first room. He'd tried to walk through every wall in the place - walls weren't exactly a problem in his house, after all - but so far all he'd managed to get was carefully herded back into that room.

And now, he was standing there and it was rather apparent that they could at least catch a flicker of him. Rose was astonishingly underdressed, as Mortimer understood was the way of girls her age when they were trying to catch the attention of the chap they fancied. Still, she was holding her robe close to her body and her arms folded up over that. The Doctor was standing, firmly, in between her and Mortimer, and his hands were loose, his body language quite open, but incontrovertibly threatening, in a way that made the most threatening threats ever look quite commonplace.

Rose was definitely in safe hands, here, but Mortimer wasn't so sure about himself.

"Normally, I don't have a problem with stowaways on my ship," said the Doctor. He really didn't seem anything like the giddy and slightly dashing fellow Mortimer had taken him for before. "It's amazing the people you can pick up over the years, and I can't tell you the number of them who have just wandered in unannounced. But normally, I can see them, and normally, I find them without having to use extraordinary measures."

Then, the Doctor smiled, all the thunder and danger gone, his cheeky grin back on his face, and deep sympathy in his dark eyes. "Now, I don't exactly know what's going on here, I really don't, not yet, but I promise I'll find out and try to free you. If you're Rose's family, and you mean no harm, you're welcome on my ship. However, I would ask that you not haunt Jackie, as the woman's got enough problems just being herself." The Doctor smirked devilishly, and Rose protested with an elbow to his ribs while a grin she obviously couldn't help spread over her pretty face.

Mortimer laughed and, though it made no sound, it was obvious that the pair at the console were somehow aware of it. No wonder lovely little Rose chose this one. Aside from the spaceship and the rather pretty looks, which might recommend him, but in no guarantee his loyalty, she'd looked deeper. She'd done the sensible thing and gone for intelligence instead of muscle or money or any of the silly things girls were inclined to in this world. Just like his Rosa.

Oh, she was the daughter they never had a chance to have.

Mortimer waved a cheery goodnight to the pair, since he couldn't tell them anything if even his deep laugh wasn't audible. He stepped over to the door and meant to go through it. The Doctor reached for the console, flipped a switch and the door opened for him.

"What a very strange world our girl lives in, Rosa," he murmured to the loving spirit he could almost feel beside him.

* * *

Jackie swore quietly as she flipped through the directory, looking for a roofer who could come out yesterday.

"You'd better call someone for the septic system, too," the Doctor shouted. He was outside, mucking with that space lawnmow of his, again, and Jackie wanted to get him and Rose both to toddle off to Polaris or somewhere.

Rose had been acting silly all morning, taking items down from the shelves and looking at them closely, then putting them back up again. Jackie had no idea what she was looking for, but whatever it was, she was whistling cheerfully or - dammit all - talking to Uncle Mortimer as she did it.

The Doctor had obviously spent the night arguing with his ship, as she'd come in that morning and still found him doing that. She'd stopped by Rose's room on her way to the console room, hoping to find them shacked up together, but her oblivious child was sleeping alone, fully dressed (after a fashion), no sign of any attempts at seduction in sight. He hadn't even had the decency to leave an obvious love bite on Rose's neck for Jackie to raise Cain about.

She hefted the directory, contemplated whacking the Doctor 'round the head with it. She walked out to the shed where he lived when he was doing whatever the hell it was that didn't involve getting on with seducing her daughter immediately so they could get this damn farce over with. "You said it's a time machine," Jackie said, jerking her finger toward the rather hospitable blue box that had even left her a nice glass of water and a couple of aspirin on her bedside table last night.

"She is," the Doctor agreed, taking the sonic screwdriver out of his mouth.

"Can you go back in time a month or so and call one of these buggers to come fix the roof?"

"Pair of ducks," he said, and waved her off.

"I don't care how many ducks it takes," she bellowed. "You don't have to get them to come out yesterday, just get them to come out today!"

"What have ducks got to do with it?" he demanded.

"You said ducks!" she snapped.

"I did not," he replied, standing up and looking at her, all injured dignity and touseled hair.

It was a shame he was being so cute when she wanted to murder him. He and Lovey had that in common, actually. "I asked you," she said, slowly, as if talking to the idiot she sometimes suspected him to be, "to go and call the roofers and you said 'pair of ducks.'"

The Doctor looked at her and made a face like a fish. A startled and baffled fish. Then, he burst out laughing. "Jackie Tyler, promise me you will never change." Then he darted off into the house.

She followed him, disgruntled and confused, and when she found him, he and Rose were falling over one of the recliners together, giggling like crazy.

Jackie wished she'd never even bothered. Then again... they inched closer. Jackie held her breath. Rose was about to fall off the sofa arm. Maybe they'd... closer...

The door bell rang and, turning to answer it, Jackie hated everything.

She opened the door, briefly appraised the familiar looking, gorgeous bloke on her doorstep, and the large, black SUV in her drive and decided that maybe she only hated almost everything. "Hello," she said, in her most inviting voice.

The man blinked at her in surprise. "Hello," he answered and held out his hand. "Captain Jack Harkness," he said, in the most compelling and flirtatious tone she had ever heard.

Jackie beamed and accepted his hand, and he lifted hers to his lips and kissed it. "I don't know if you've noticed anything odd, ma'am. Strange lights in the sky, anything like that?" he asked, his eyebrows arching intriguingly as he looked her over.

She looked for her voice, but it was pretty obvious that the damn cat had run off with her tongue, just like the butter dish and anything else in this house you were looking for. She shook her head, slowly.

The man smiled. "Do you mind if I..." he started.

Over her shoulder, Jackie heard Rose say, "Mum, who's at the door?" She hated everything, again.

The bloke, Captain Jack, froze and looked around Jackie to, apparently, see Rose's retreating back. His hand went to the device in his ear. "Stand down," he said. "False alarm, just a hiccup is all."

He had the strangest look on his face. "You must be Jackie," he said.

"Yes," she agreed, rather startled at this sudden conclusion.

"What do you mean just some bloke Jackie's chatting up?" came the Doctor's voice, now. "The sonic screwdriver just went crazy, I'm sure there's alien tech in the..."

The man in the doorway and the Doctor looked at each other, the Captain with an interested, confused expression, the Doctor so pale that the only color in his face was his freckles. Rose still hadn't seen the bloke, and the Doctor didn't seem to want her to do, as his hands gently but firmly shoved Rose behind him and then turned and dragged her back into the living room.

"That's the Doctor, then?" the Captain asked.

Jackie nodded, a little confused as to how this... wait. She'd seen pictures of him before, somewhere. Maybe it was in Rose's things.

"I love you, too, Rosie!" he shouted into the house. He grinned at Jackie. "So, those two," he said. "What's the plan?"

Jackie didn't get a chance to tell him, because Rose rudely shoved her out of the way and slammed into the Captain as if she'd been shot from a cannon.

* * *


	15. Look What the Cat Dragged In

_**The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, Isis the Sphinx, Jessa L'Rynn, Kathryn Shadow, NewDrWhoFan, SilverWolf7, **and** Olfactory-Ventriloquism** (today's author) have breaking news. Not one of them owns Doctor Who or Torchwood, though all of them wish they did. Wait, that's not news? Oh. Well, we just thought we'd put that out there. Never too early to start your Christmas shopping, after all. _

* * *

**_Chapter 15: Look What the Cat Dragged In_**

Rose squeezed Jack close, inhaling the familiar scent of her favorite Time Agent. Then she pulled back to give his arm a good wallop.

"Why didn't you tell me you were here? You're supposed to be in the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire." She yelled at him. And, suddenly, all of the Doctor's nervousness about being caught came rushing into place. She pivoted, eyes blazing as they froze the Doctor's form. "You! You knew!" He cringed. "Why-" She began angrily and stopped seeing the real pain and fear in the Doctor's face. She stared at him for a second and then turned to see a similar look in Jack's face but with anger lurking beneath. Rose felt a chill, and her gaze returned to the Doctor. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked softly, taking a tentative step towards him, afraid he'd bolt like a startled rabbit. He averted his eyes resolutely to the floor. Another careful step. "Doctor?"

"Yeah, Doc. Not to put too fine a point on it, but you did kinda abandon me." Jack drawled from the still open doorway. Rose gaped at him in shock. The Doctor openly flinched. In the silence that followed, Lovey twined around Jack's ankles. Though Jack may be normally good natured, mischief called to mischief, and the cat took an instant liking to the flirtatious prankster.

Forcing herself to not holler like she wanted to, Rose addressed the Doctor.

"You said he had work to do. You said he wanted to stay behind." She said softly.

"No I didn't." The Doctor said quickly, his eyes popping up from the floor before he could stop them, and he was arrested by the hurt, the bruised trust that Rose expressed. Any rebuttal that he might have tried that would simply argue what he said and what he left implied was suddenly as dead as the proverbial doorknob. It was a testament to how much Rose's pain concerned him that he didn't go on even a mental tangent about the metaphorical life of the doorknob.

Unthinkingly, he stepped forward and cupped her face relieved when she didn't pull away. In his peripherals he saw both Jackie and Jack catch their breath.

"I was wrong." He said sincerely. Jack's back stiffened as Rose's relaxed. "I was going to regenerate, so I might lose you anyway. And he was so wrong all of a sudden." Rose opened her mouth in confusion, but he continued so she subsided in silence. "So, I did what I always do. I ran. And I shouldn't've." He looked up at the still silent captain. "I'm sorry."

"What d'you mean wrong?" Rose asked.

"I can't die, Rosie." Jack stepped in now, literally by closing the door behind him, and metaphorically by speaking up in a conversation that very intimately involved him.

"Huh?" Rose asked eloquently.

"I'm immortal. Have been since Satellite Five. Don't quite know why." Jack told her gently. Rose could see differences in the man that stood before her. He had a weight now he'd never had. The Doctor scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"It was Bad Wolf." The Doctor offered, trying to make up for keeping silent about Jack. Rose stared at him, stared at Jack. She knew those words. Her brain felt like it was about to overload. Why was everyone staring at her? Rose shook her head. She couldn't do this. What wasn't it she couldn't do?

Rose Tyler turned and stumbled back to the TARDIS.

* * *

Jack watched the Doctor chase after her and turned to Jackie with a smirk.

"So, they seem the same as always. They ever gonna make a move?"

Jackie groaned and threw her arms in the air in a way that is frequently described but rarely seen.

"Do you have any idea what I have gone through to change that?" She demanded with all the patience of the patron saint of red-heads.

"You're Rose's mum?" Jack asked with a raised eyebrow. At Jackie's nod, he grinned. "I knew the twenty-first century wasn't as repressed as she acted."

"I'm beginning to think that the Victorian era wasn't as repressed as she is." She bemoaned. Jack let loose a full-bodied laugh. His easy charm and gentle prodding soon had unearthed the entirety of Jackie's plan and its current lack of success.

"You know, I've seen alien warlords try to force those two to do more things that you can imagine from assassination to participating in an orgy, but the simple truth is that they never do anything they don't want to do." He paused before adding thoughtfully, "And half the time they don't do what they _do_ want to do, for reasons no one can fathom." He threw an arm around Jackie's shoulders in a manner that had no more flirtation than anything done by Captain Jack Harkness. "But your secret is safe with me."

Jackie cast a doubtful almost resigned look towards where the Doctor and Rose had disappeared. Jack shook his head.

"Give them a bit." He advised, glancing up. "I noticed some roof damage before I came in. You might want to have that looked at." He ignored the evil look Jackie cast his way as he walked towards the back-yard.

The TARDIS hummed welcomingly at him as he approached.

"Good to see you, too, girl." He murmured softly turning the door knob. A warning sounded briefly as he opened the door silently, but it was too late.

He'd already seen the Doctor pressed against the support strut farthest from him, hungrily lip-locked with one Rose Marion Tyler. Jack knew enough about sex in all its manifestations and stages that he could spot a first kiss at least 4 k off. This was not one of those. Jack smirked as he backed out of the TARDIS and ran a friendly hand along her door.

"Maybe not as hopeless as I'd thought."

* * *

Rose was almost running when she collapsed against the TARDIS door in tears. Power rippled through her at the massive time-ship's touch. Power, recognition and sympathy. The door swung open before she reached for her key. She made it as far as the jump seat before collapsing.

Memories flooded of light and heat and song. Gold dust and what might have been a kiss. The pitch of the TARDIS altered.

"_I've been waiting for you_." It seemed to say. No…it did say. That was enough to stop the sobs she couldn't explain. Rose looked up at the central column, tears and mascara streaking her face.

"What?"

"_For you to remember, I've been waiting_," said an ancient, powerful and compassionate female voice. The voice of the TARDIS.

"You've never talked to me before." Rose said numbly. "Not with words." Often times the TARDIS had addressed her with sensations and emotions, even ideas, and Rose had often transcribed them into words to better understand this magnificent ship. However, the TARDIS had never addressed her in such an unequivocal manner. Now, she was speaking, not just comunicating. Rose felt awed.

"_I was waiting_." The TARDIS repeated.

"What did you want me to remember?" Rose asked uncertainly

"_Us_._ You looked into me, and I looked into you. For our Doctor."_

Rose nodded blankly, images flashing through her mind.

"I…we…killed them. And Jack. Oh, poor Jack. What did I do?" She asked brokenly.

"What you had to. What I couldn't." The Doctor said softly from just inside the doorway. "You saved me. You saved him." He was slowly approaching her. "You ended the Time War." Now he was standing right in front of her. "Funny thing, that's what I was supposed to do." His tender hands wiped away her tears. He smiled warmly at her. "You always were better than me, even if you didn't believe me." Rose pulled him to her, relishing the feeling of his arms around her as she buried her head in his chest. "You did what you thought you had to. When I left Jack, I did the same. As usual, you were right." Her murmured into the crown of her head.

"She's talking to me." Rose mumbled into him.

"She's wanted to since she met you. She just didn't want to scare you. Now you'll probably never get her to shut up." Rose laughed wetly.

"_I will be speaking to you about that._" The TARDIS rumbled threateningly.

"I'm sure you will." The Doctor rejoined.

"Are you going to leave me?" Rose blurted out, suddenly. Searching his face fearfully. The Doctor stared down at her in shock.

"No." He croaked out. "I'm not leaving you. Even…even if you ask me to, I don't think I can." His arms tightened around her. Rose nodded.

"Good." She told him, pulling him down to her, matching her lips to his with a needy ferocity. She pressed him against the nearest support strut to give herself the angle she needed to show him what he meant to her, how much she needed him. They only broke apart when Rose couldn't breathe. The Doctor trailed kisses down her throat. Rose moaned.

A loud knock sounded on the door, causing both of them to jump apart, panting and disheveled.

"Rose? Doctor? You two alright in there?" Jack's voice drawled fro outside. If Rose didn't know better, she might think he was amused. "It's just, Rose's mum is talking to some…Uncle Mortimer?"

* * *


	16. Can You Hear Me Now?

_**SilverWolf7**, the author of said chapter, would like to apologise to the others, namely, **The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, Isis the Sphinx, Jessa L'Rynn, Kathryn Shadow, NewDrWhoFan, **and** Olfactory-Ventriloquism**, for not finding the rights to Doctor Who among the junk cluttering up her floor. It wasn't there, doubt it ever was to begin with._

* * *

**_Chapter 16: Can You Hear Me Now?_**

Rose let her head drop to the Doctor's shoulder and sighed loudly. "Can she hear him back?" she called out, hoping Jack could hear her as well as they could hear him.

"Well, the two are having a major conversation here. Is there even an Uncle Mortimer there?" Jack asked through the TARDIS door.

"Yep!" the Doctor answered. "He's just...kind of a ghost at the moment, that's all. Died not long ago, left this lovely, falling apart house to his niece, Jackie. Watch out for the cats. They're evil, especially Lovey."

"Love you too, Doctor," Jack replied. "Still a bit angry at you for leaving me stranded, and you've still got to explain that one to me. So, why don't the two of you straighten yourselves out, stop snogging each other senseless and come help me with Rose's mother?"

Rose looked at the Doctor, and locked her lips against him, making the both of them let out a low moan, and making Jack, still on the other side of the door, laugh loudly. It was a short kiss, just to prove a point to Jack. What the point was even she didn't know, but it was a point nonetheless. Of course, it could be the Doctor, who seemed rather happy where he was.

He leaned in close to her to whisper in her ear, "But I'm already straightened out."

Rose blushed and stepped away, heading towards the door out. The Doctor followed after a few seconds.

Jack wouldn't stop grinning at the two of them as they walked back, and suddenly, Rose thought it was very important to tell him not to tell her mum. "Jack, please don't mention this to my mum. We don't want her to know."

The Captain raised an eyebrow at that, and shook his head, a look of confusion crossing his face. "But, she told me she's been doing everything she can to get the two of you together. Then of course, she starts yelling at the invisible man. Well, I couldn't see him, anyway."

Rose stopped, and the Doctor ploughed into her back. "She's been trying to get us together?" Rose asked, incredulous. "Everything she's been doing has been the opposite of trying to get us together. What in the world is she trying to do? Drive us all mad?"

"I told you she might want to be catching us in the act of something...naughty," the Doctor stated, pulling her against him and laying his chin on her shoulder. "Hasn't yet, has she?"

"Still haven't figured out the why though. Any ideas?" she asked.

"I'm completely lost guys," Jack replied to that, holding up his hands, as if to ward off the questions that may or may not be going in his direction.

The Doctor let out a loud sigh and let her go. She wanted right then to just push him against the wall of the house they had reached and give her mum a good right show. At one point they may even have to switch positions. Then they could really give her mum a show.

Instead, she turned back to Jack. "So are we," she told him. "Think we're all taking things the wrong ways. I mean, why did she have to start talking to Uncle Mortimer when she wasn't really seeing him? And now we know that he still is hanging around, and can hear us but we can't hear him, and now mum really is holding conversations with him. Are they one-sided or do they go both ways?"

"Seemed to be both ways to me, though it could be one big act if it means anything..."

"Maybe I should get the TARDIS to do a scan of the grounds and the house," the Doctor suggested. "Be right back." With that said, he walked in the opposite direction, back towards the TARDIS, and hopefully a step closer to solving whatever was going on here.

"Oh, I'm sure that's all he'll be doing," Jack stated, smiling at her with that smile that said that sex was going to be involved in some way, shape or form. Rose blushed harder than being caught with the Doctor by Jack. She would have rather had her mum walk in on them.

A few minutes later, the Doctor was back and frowning. "Well, she'll be done with that sometime later. She isn't too pleased with me right now."

Neither she nor Jack decided to say anything after that, and the three of them wandered inside. There was an awful smell in the air around and in the house, but since the ceiling had caved in, it might be her imagination. After all, it was rotted and disgusting in and of itself.

No one else said anything about it, so she didn't either.

It was probably her imagination.

Or the gifts from the cats yesterday.

* * *

"What do you mean, Lovey probably caused it? Look, you're a ghost. A ghost that shouldn't exist, or even be able to talk to me at all I hear. Or that's what the Doctor said, and he knows about this stuff. You know, being one of those smart, higher than thou, aliens."

Uncle Mortimer's voice, if you could call it that was nothing more than a whisper but it was definitely there, and Jackie could understand it, even though it seemed to have more than one...layer to it.

His voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, and she wasn't entirely sure it was just him, or several different people at once.

Jackie felt like she was stuck in a ghost movie. One that involved comedy instead of horror, since there wasn't really anything horrific about this. Well, other than the house falling down around her, apparently thanks to a cat.

"Lovey," came the voice again, and she rolled her eyes.

"Alright, I know the cat's got her own agenda, and is evil incarnate or whatever, but how did a cat manage to get the ceiling in the room the Doctor and Rose are supposed to be sharing to collapse? It isn't possible."

"Lovey," Uncle Mortimer said again, pointing to where the cat lay dozing on the couch, after having rolled in the scent of rotten meat. It made the house smell awful.

She heard the door open as the other three came back inside, hopefully all friends (or more) again. She wanted to stop having this insane conversation with a dead relative, but it didn't seem to be finishing any time soon.

"Oh, thank god! Will you three get in here and explain to Uncle Mortimer that it is impossible for a cat to have purposefully made the ceiling collapse."

The Doctor poked his head into the room, and grinned. "The cat caused the ceiling to collapse? Honestly, with the cat in question, I'd believe it." He was eyeing Lovey, who was once again rolling in the awful smell.

Jackie frowned severely at him. "You! You're supposed to be on my side, not his!" She pointed to where Uncle Mortimer was, but the Doctor's eyes looked like they couldn't focus on him. Was she the only one that could see him properly? Why the hell was this happening to her? She'd never act crazy again.

"You're actually holding a conversation with him?" the Doctor asked, bringing out his ever present sonic screwdriver, probably to scan her for the umpteenth time since they had arrived here.

"Try getting him to shut up," she instructed. "Now all he does is repeat 'Lovey' over and over again, pointing to the little hellcat."

The sonic screwdriver did do another scan for the umpteenth time, but it wasn't scanning her, but in the general direction of Uncle Mortimer. By the look on her Uncle's face he was about as happy with it as she was.

"Doctor he doesn't like that, just so you know," Jackie told him.

"Yeah, no one really does," the Doctor said.

"I wonder why?" Jackie asked, rhetorically.

Before the Doctor could reply, opening his mouth up probably to go on about the benefits of his ever faithful tool, Rose and Jack walked in, grinning like a pair of teens coming back from a tryst. Well! Jack's alright. More than alright, really, Jackie thought. If Rose was really more attracted to this Captain fellow, than by all means she could have him. The Doctor right now was being nothing but a pest.

"Hey, mum. Can Jack stay for dinner?" Rose asked.

Jackie sighed. Another mouth to feed. Soon they'd have to go grocery shopping again, as they were running out of food. "Sure, why not," she said. "The more the merrier, right?"

Uncle Mortimer let out one long, low and eerily familiar "Lovey," before floating off into the next room, leaving them alone.

Jackie was afraid to know what the hell he was planning.

She went into the kitchen to start dinner. Might as well have it early after all. Not much more they could do.

* * *

The Doctor checked the scans for the millionth time and frowned. There was definitely something there. And yes, it was definitely the same kind of signature reading he would expect to find from the dead family member present.

But why, why, was it alternating between strong and weak? Why could Jackie fully see and hear him when no one else could? Sure, he could get vague impressions now and then, but had never been able to hear him.

Maybe it was because out of all the people in the room, Jackie was the one closest in biological terms to Uncle Mortimer.

It was the only idea that made any sense of the circus that was going on around him in this house.

He was yearning quite strongly to continue on in the TARDIS and leave everything in this crazy house well alone. But it would upset Rose to leave her mum like this, and his itchy feet would just have to wait before he could travel again.

And, worst of all, he did owe a fuller, more detailed explanation to Jack of what happened to him and why he couldn't die.

How...fun.

* * *


	17. The Last Night You'll Spend Alone

_Greetings, bipeds everywhere. It's Saturday again, and that means that __**Kathryn Shadow **__is panicking and thus inciting her bronchi to constrict, while **The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, Isis the Sphinx, **__**Jessa L'Rynn, NewDrWhoFan, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, **__and _**SilverWolf7 **_are all happily enjoying whatever it is they do on weekends. Sigh…_

_Well, all plans involving in any way the Ecclesclone have been terminated, as he appears to consider me a complete nutter now and my fellow authors are in no way assisting in this predicament. I'm fresh out of ideas now, so we're turning to TCASM._

_WARNING: __Un-betaed. It has, however, been sent to Jessa, so this chapter is subject to change._

_Enjoy, if at all possible. There isn't really a lot of plottiness (and yes, I know that that isn't a word) in this one, just a lot of fluff 'cause I like fluff. Fluff is good. Kind of like bananas, only fluff is difficult to eat. –wise nod-_

_Yes, I stole the title from Skillet lyrics. Get over it. I can't think right now._

_Anyway. On with it._

* * *

_**Chapter 17: The Last Night You'll Spend Alone**_

Rose couldn't sleep. This was, of course, a state she was acquainted with quite well, but it never ceased to irk her. She liked sleep. The Doctor would suggest that she liked sleep a little bit too much.

What was he doing, anyway? She knew he wasn't sleeping. He was the Doctor and, traditionally, he didn't sleep unless he absolutely needed to, and the howl of terror he gave every couple of hours generally let her know of that state. He'd gotten a bit better over the years, but…

She cursed quietly and shoved the Doctor out of her mind, because he was one of the primary reasons for her restlessness. What, after all, was rest when she could be…

She cut that train of thought off with a decisive mental snap and rolled over fiercely, hiding her face in the pillow with a vague growling noise.

At least, she thought dismally, they were in the TARDIS. She had a hard enough time controlling herself when they were sleeping in very firmly different areas. A night when most viable choice was to share a bed with the Doctor would have completely broken any form of influence she had over herself. Probably would have done the same for him, she thought, not without a modicum of smugness.

But _anyway, _she interrupted herself firmly, here in the TARDIS with her in her own room and the Doctor God-knew-where, she was safe. Mostly. Especially considering that her mother was in the ship too, and Jack, and she honestly wasn't sure at this point which one she would rather have walk in on them.

She knew very well that someone would walk in on them. It was just the way things were. They could be utterly alone, floating around in the time vortex, and someone would waltz into the door and demand to know what the hell was going on, before trying to execute them for public lewdness.

She giggled at that picture, despite herself. The disobedient bit of her brain suggested that she and the Doctor being arrested for public lewdness might be fun.

She paused, tense, asphyxiation beginning to set in from the fluffy object covering her face. Wasn't she supposed to be stopping thoughts like that?

And besides, she thought, sobering, she needed to ask him things. He'd never explained Jack properly. And if she'd done that much to him… what else had she done? Why couldn't she remember? Had the Doctor erased it from her mind, or was it just part of the process?

She dearly hoped that it wasn't the former. The only reasons she could think of for that sort of thing were things she didn't want to think of.

After another moment during which she neither moved nor breathed, she rolled off the bed and stood up in one fluid motion, gathering the sheets around her as she wobbled slightly in the dark.

The TARDIS illuminated the room and gently nudged her onwards, and after a pause, she flicked the fabric into a more practical position and stepped out of the door.

* * *

The Doctor couldn't sleep, but that was nothing new. What _was _new was the reason for it.

His excuse was, of course, that he was trying to find out how to exaggerate the mild psychic signal exuding from the not-quite-dead-after-all Mortimer, and he couldn't do that if he was unconscious. He was also worrying slightly about the affects of that dinner on his digestive system and wondering if it was even still there now that he had been forced to ingest the aforementioned substances, but he wasn't about to mention that.

There was also, of course, the matter of Jack. He hadn't shown himself yet, but the Time Lord knew, with that sort of sinking knowledge that settled itself like Jackie's cooking in the pit of where he hoped his stomach still was, that the immortal would return and demand an explanation; that, along with the knowledge that he still didn't know what to say to him, completely erased the effects of a few weeks of barely closing his eyes and left him twitching.

And then there was Rose.

Since his stomach was obviously gone, the Doctor decided that the sensation the very mention of her name provoked was his lungs tingling, which was interesting. His lungs did many fascinating things, but tingling had only very rarely been one of them. All in all, though, he wasn't particularly surprised; Rose had made almost all of his anatomy do strange and unexpected things and the thoughts branching out from that were not things that would be good to think about, stop it.

He turned an interesting shade of magenta. He could feel the box in his pocket resting lightly against his thigh— not literally, of course, but it might as well have been a tangible sensation. It weighed very heavily on his frankly brilliant mind and he didn't know what to do about that either.

He very dearly hoped that Jack wasn't awake and wasn't going to come in and start to interrogate him. This meant, of course, that at that very moment he would walk in the door.

He waited.

Jack refused to appear.

The Time Lord frowned at the empty doorway, and was, in fact, so intent with his perusal of that entry that he nearly jumped out of his skin at the gentle brush of Rose's mind against his. His hearts began to threaten to stop altogether, partially at the unexpected mental contact and where the hell it had come from, partially because of the feel of her consciousness against his. The last time he'd touched it, it had been burning with golden light, screaming in the inarticulate agony of infinite power that he experienced every day, and that really didn't give him much information as to what she really was.

What she was…

He heard the TARDIS chuckle in his mind and he metaphysically glared at her before he turned to face the human.

He swallowed hard. His imagination had always been too good, and it began to display this quality once again as the sight of her properly registered in his brain— which was, incidentally, the moment just before it turned into a lump of useless gush.

Rose was, if one were to be succinct about it, Rose. She stood there, hovering in the doorway with a kind of adorable uncertainty, her golden hair perfectly mussed from her brief stay in her bed, makeup smudged, tongue poking at the corner of her mouth as she eyed him with a vague kind of doubt. This would have fascinated him enough on its own, but she also happened to have a bedsheet draped loosely around her shoulders, which left far too much for what was left of his mind to play with. That part of his mind started listing all the possible reasons she could have for this state of dress, despite the fact that the rest of him wasn't really listening.

He twitched, fighting the urge to go over to her. He'd always had difficulty trying not to touch her, but this was getting ridiculous.

He lost his battle with himself and stepped over to her, feeling suspiciously magnetized. Her honey-toned eyes moved upwards to stay locked with his and he wondered exactly how deeply her hypnotic powers went. He couldn't look away even if he wanted to, at this point.

Her mind was still within reach, dangling there, beautiful and golden and so perfectly human, tantalizing. He wanted to reach out and touch it, wrap his consciousness around hers, weave them together and never let her go. As it was, he twitched a little bit and remained where he was.

"Jack can't die," she said succinctly, drawing the sheet a little more closely to her body.

"No," he agreed.

"Can't I change him back? I mean, if I…?"

He tensed, intrinsically rejecting the very idea. She flinched; she'd felt it.

"You can't," he settled upon, but his thoughts said more. He deftly controlled his mental patterns, concealing from her the reason behind his death. She was hurting enough about Jack; she didn't need to know that…

He killed that thought.

She nodded faintly, glancing away from him. "'s just…"

He swallowed.

"Why'd you leave him behind?" she inquired of him.

He struggled for a moment with how to verbalize the reasons behind this. "He's…" He hesitated. "He's wrong, Rose. His timeline was so completely altered that I just couldn't…" He held back a growl. It would be so much easier to communicate if he would just allow himself to fully open up his mind to her, but he couldn't do that. The complications that could arise were too numerous for him to take the risk. Besides that, there were secrets he kept and things hidden deep within him that he didn't even want Rose to see.

He raked his fingers agitatedly through his hair. "I was regenerating, and I was confused, and I was—" A pause. "I was scared," he admitted. "I wasn't really thinking. I was acting on instinct, and he is so completely and utterly unnatural that all I knew to do was run."

"And why'd you regenerate? You… you never said." Her voice trembled slightly. He wasn't surprised. It was a lot to process.

He flitted over several possible explanations before he finally settled upon one he liked.

"I had to save you," he told her quietly.

She glanced up at him. Her pain lanced through him and he winced. He was trying very hard to conceal his mental presence from her. In her distress, he thought he might have succeeded.

"I killed you?" she whispered.

The last remnants of his resistance failed and he reached out, running his fingers down her arms before they found her hands and entwined themselves with them. "I killed me," he insisted. "It was you or me and I couldn't lose you. Can't lose you," he amended, after a moment.

She was silent. Tears were beginning to form, threatening to fall from her wide eyes. She didn't understand. How could she?

He moved, pulling her close, tucking her against his body. She came willingly, letting go of the sheet in favor of wrapping her arms around him with a slightly suffocating tightness that he would never, ever wish to stop. He hesitated for a moment, oddly frightened, before he gave in and opened the walls in his mind to let her golden light shine inside his soul, gently pressing the wanted impressions into her.

"You're in my head," she said, telepathically and physically. He wouldn't have known the difference but for the feel of her mouth moving against his breastbone.

He was suddenly terrified. "Is that all right?"

"Mmhmm." She had started to calm down now. He could feel her half-acceptance of the images he brought before her— only half, but it would do for now. She would understand eventually.

He was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that there was nobody else in the room. There was nobody else in the room but he and a Rose whose state of dress had still not been adequately ascertained.

He swallowed, feeling his pulse shoot upwards, and a stupid, insane impulse caught hold of him. The box was metaphysically digging into him. The TARDIS hovered inside his head, waiting, telepathically holding her breath. Everything was spinning around him, time and space and matter all twisting around what he did in _this very second _and it made him breathless and dizzy, throat going dry at the thought that so many things in every universe dangled on what he did in _that very moment._

He shifted, fingers moving to his pocket, closing reassuringly around the box. Its solidity was steadying somehow and he inhaled, oxygen rushing into his lungs in preparation. Time quite literally stood still as he opened his mouth, vocal cords tensing, breath readied, air gently caressing the single syllable that escaped his lips.

"Rose?"

* * *


	18. Give Me Love, Give Me Light

_Friends, Romans, Countrymen, Lend Me Your Ears: KS, you should feel ashamed of yourself. Really. Leaving the poor overly-medicated Savannah with that... On that note, reader beware, as Savannah is STONED. Seriously. This is bad._

_Disclaimer: Oh, so now its my job?! Fine. I think I saw it in the cupboard next to the chibi!Daleks... ((But till we find it, I, **The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, Isis the Sphinx,** **Jessa L'Rynn, Kathryn Shadow, NewDrWhoFan, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, **and **SilverWolf7** still don't own Doctor Who!)) **-**digs though the cupboard**-**_

* * *

_**Chapter 18: Give Me Love, Give Me Light**_

Jack was chatting with Uncle Mortimer.

Well...maybe chatting wasn't the right term. More like a monolouge where the ghost would sometimes mumble a one-word answer or comment but listened because there was nothing better to do.

"And so I was left in the middle of Venice, half-conscious, with some lady in a nuns wimple screeching in my ear about the ills of alcohol." Jack scoffed. "I was tempted to tell her what really happened, but I don't think she'd take well to the idea of little blue men running around the city with laser blasters, which won't be even allowed on Earth for-"

Morty nodded silently. The young man in front of him was...strange, to put it lightly, but didn't seem at all that bad. And there didn't seem to be a chance of a rift forming between Rose and the Doctor due to him. Still...

"- the thing almost pounced on me, which would have been bad since it weighed about as much as the church we were hiding in, but I managed to-"

...He was rather strange.

* * *

Lovey had wondered outside again, bored with the calm that had fallen over both her house and the strange blue box that was inside it. The ground was still wet from the earlier rain. She avoided the cold spot on the ground, not because she was scared of it, but that she had better things to do than worry over the tempature. However, she was at least twenty feet from the spot when the cold hit her and she paused.

Tilting her head to the side, eyes narrowed, she cautiously moved forward, ears and tail flicking back and forth. She stopped where the cold had been the other day and tilted her head again. Did the new people have anything to do with it?

Suddenly she stilled.

Something...

Claws slowly extending, the cat surveyed the yard.

A mouse squeeked near one of the rose bushes. Lovey gave a warning hiss to the air, and crouched back to the ground, returning to her hunting.

* * *

"He said it was just a hiccup." Ianto called from the coffee machine, which had been refusing to work lately.

Gwen frowned at the computer screen. "Well, it keeps hiccuping. Something _is_ out there."

"If it were anything dangerous, Jack would have told us." He insisted, giving up on plugging and unplugging the machine and whacked the top with his hand. "You know how he gets anyway."

"You're right, I supposed." Sighing, Gwen moved away from the monitor and walked up behind him. "Got it working yet?"

Ianto glared at her.

* * *

"What?" Rose's voice was muffled against his shoulder. She pulled back to look at him.

The Doctor licked his lips, panic setting in. His hand clenched tightly around the innocent little box - which probably would have complained had it ot been a regular little black box from Earth and not one from one of the planets in the Frieulia systems - and could feel his hearts beating wildly. A stream of worries poured through his mind, and he was distantly aware he was trembling.

Not much though.

Time Lords don't tremble.

Rose by now was noticing all this. "Doctor?" She looked at him in concern.

He blinked and looked back at her, grinning nervously. "Yes? Oh, I'm fine, just... Well, see, I have... What I mean is, erm... Rose..."

Her look had turned from worry to amusement.

And the Doctor suddenly noticed he'd stopped breathing again. Taking in a deep breath, he withdrew his hand slowly, the little box coming with him. Rose hadn't noticed the motion and was still watching his face.

Amusement was fading back into concern.

"Rose, I-" He heard a light thunk and both of them looked down.

He'd dropped the box.

Rose looked at it curiously and stooped to pick it up, not noticing how pale the Doctor had suddenly gotten.

He swallowed when he saw her open it...

* * *

Diabla watched Jackie curiously from her spot on the floor. Humans were so strange, always seeming to be worried about one thing or another.

This one had been doing quite a bit of it lately, pacing around and muttering to herself. Diabla nuzzled her leg.

The woman looked down t the cat as if just noticing her and let out a little sigh. "I think I need to take a walk." She whispered to the cat.

Diabla would have shrugged, but Jackie had left already.

* * *


	19. Absinthe!

_Sorry, folks, it's gonna be another short one. I almost didn't have time to write this._

_Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, I'd be using the TARDIS right now to give me some more time to finish reading Native Son. The test's tomorrow!! It's read that book, or look for that paper. I'm seriously looking for that paper. (destroys house in mad rush of search) Trust me, we: **Isis the Sphinx, The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, Jessa L'Rynn, Kathryn Shadow, NewDrWhoFan, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, **and **SilverWolf7**, do not own Doctor Who. (returns to searching/destroying)_

* * *

_**Chapter 19: Absinthe!!**_

Rose blinked; she wasn't expecting what she saw in the box. "Is this what I think it is?"

For a moment, the Doctor was paralyzed. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, and he knew exactly how he wanted it said. Then why couldn't he do it?! It was like he had eaten a tube of Krazy Glue. He couldn't wrench his jaws open. Did other human males have this problem, or was it just his own little biological quirk?

He nodded.

* * *

"Y'know, Mort. Can I call you Mort? Morty? A man could get really thirsty in an old house like this. Where are you hiding the hard stuff?" Jack asked, wiggling his fingers in anticipation.

'Away from you.' Uncle Mortimer thought as he winced. He hadn't hid his liquor cabinet very well, simply because he _liked_ a drink now and then. Well, he couldn't have any now…but still.

"Ah! Here it is! Now what do you have…Absinthe! I haven't seen this in decades! This stuff is good. I could never figure out why they stopped making it." Jack grabbed a shot glass, poured himself some, and knocked it back like it was water. "Wow. Still good. Wonder if the Doctor or Rose want some." With that, he went in search of the two that had disappeared from everyone's eyes for quite a while.

Uncle Mortimer was scared. Very scared.

* * *

_Ok, so I didn't have time to write much. Sue me. I'm still looking for that paper._


	20. Alone At First and Last

_A/N: **NewDrWhoFan** here with your Tuesday update. I hope you've been enjoying our little game of Hot Potato, with everyone passing the buck on the proposal, but it's time to take the bull by the horns, and... okay, too many metaphors, I get it. _

_I and my fellow collaborators (**The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, Isis the Sphinx, Jessa L'Rynn, Kathryn Shadow, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, **and **SilverWolf7**) hope you're liking our work!_

_Thanks to GSRgirlforever for beta-ing this for me :)_

_Disclaimer: Have you seen this sort of thing on television? No? I didn't think so. That's 'cause WE DON'T OWN DOCTOR WHO! _

_Yet._

_Of course, after this, we probably never will._

* * *

**_Chapter 20: Alone At First - and Last_**

Mortimer watched, quaking in his proverbial boots (he'd died in his loafers), as Jack took another swig from the bottle. If the man had been that odd before, searching the house, muttering about "alien tech", and telling his various exploits to a ghost he couldn't actually see or hear, Mortimer dreaded to think what might become of him after ingesting the rather, ahem, _potent_ liquor.

Already, as they crossed the lawn towards the shed, Jack was trying to introduce Mortimer to a green fairy, as if she were a real and dear old friend of his.

Another swig, and Mortimer saw the bottle was already a third of the way gone.

"You don't think they'll be asleep, do ya?" Jack asked as he sidestepped a soggy patch of ground. Mortimer thought the man's wrist chronometer might have beeped, but Jack seemed to be in no state to notice. "'Course, if they're not," he continued, "maybe they wouldn't wanna be interrupted, huh? Huh, Morty?" he asked with a wink, nudging the air at his left side with his elbow, completely oblivious to the fact that Mortimer was gliding along to his right.

Another swig, some more rambling talk, and then Mortimer realized Jack had stopped walking. He turned to see him staring, open mouthed, right in his direction.

"Morty?" Jack asked.

It seemed Jackie was no longer the only one who could see him. However, before he could explore this remarkable turn of events any further, Mortimer felt an odd sort of tingling in his mind. It was the blue box, the Doctor's ship, he was sure. It was the same feeling he'd gotten when trying to explore the rooms on board earlier. Only now, it was impossibly stronger, and even panicked, he thought.

Without giving Jack a second glance, Mortimer flew across the lawn, into the shed, and straight through the ship's door, just following the call. That was the only way he could describe it: he was being called.

He flew through the main room, past Rose and the Doctor, and straight down the corridor beyond. He almost passed right through Jackie as she emerged from one of the rooms, but caught himself just as the ship spoke to him.

_"Stop her!"_

He was almost certain he'd heard the words.

Mortimer didn't give it another thought. He'd seen enough on his way in to know that he didn't want Jackie walking into the main room at that moment. Whatever the two were up to, Rose and the Doctor didn't need Jackie bungling things up again. So, he did the first thing that came to mind. He planted himself solidly - so to speak - in Jackie's path, and yelled, "Boo!"

* * *

Rose stared at the ring in disbelief, still crouched on the floor where she'd picked it up. It was a ring. Like an engagement ring. Very, very much like an engagement ring - and the Doctor still hadn't answered her.

"Is this -" she repeated, but looked up at last to see him nodding mutely.

She felt a sudden, cold draft, and picked up the sheet she'd dropped, settling it over her shoulders and strappy pajama top while she tried to make sense of things in her head. The Doctor's presence in her mind had gone all... strange. Not that she'd really had time to get used to it, but it had gone from a comforting, enveloping kind of thing to suddenly, well, scattered and maybe even scared, and then it had cut off.

When she'd opened the box.

She was holding a ring. A ring the Doctor had been trying to give to her. An engagement ring.

_How long are you gonna stay with me?_

Breakfast in bed. Chocolate-dipped strawberries.

_No, no, I _want_ to talk to your mother._

"AAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!"

The sudden scream sent Rose to her feet with a jolt, the sheet once again trying to slip from her grip. The Doctor's hand came up protectively to her arm, as Rose heard her Mum from down the corridor.

"Uncle Mortimer! Don't _scare_ me like that!"

Rose's attention quickly shifted to the far side of the console, as the TARDIS' doors burst inwards.

"Doc! Rosie!" Jack panted, as he ran up the ramp.

Rose quickly snapped the box shut over the ring.

And over the Doctor's fingers.

His free hand had apparently been reaching for the ring, and now he yanked it back with a yelp. And a _clang, tink, tink, thunk, clang, tink-tink-tink._

Rose stepped just far enough away from the Doctor to watch as the ring made its descent through the grating at their feet and into the bowels of the ship.

* * *

Lovey knew something was up. One moment, Mortimer had been out walking with the new human, and the next he'd flown straight into the shed, the new human not far behind.

Maybe this night wouldn't be as quiet as she'd feared, after all.

Never one to miss the action, Lovey darted across the lawn and into the ship, just as the new human opened the doors.

* * *

All thoughts of anise-flavored alcoholic beverages - and even of suddenly-visible specters - vanished from Jack's mind as he took in the scene before him. Just across the console from where he stood, the Doctor had his arms around Rose. A Rose, what's more, clad only (as far as his mind cared to assume) in a sheet.

"Well, don't stop on my account," he announced, leaning against the railing and taking another swig from the bottle of whatever-it-was that was in his hand.

Aw, how cute, they had matching blushes!

Jack absentmindedly watched Lovey streak past his outstretched feet, while the Doctor searched for words. "Cat got your tongue?" Jack asked, immensely amused by his own pun.

"Weren't you in your room?" the Doctor demanded at last.

"Avoidance," Jack mused, "that works. And no, I was over in the house, trying to see if I could pick up on any hidden tech. But that's actually a good idea," he added, straightening and walking around the console.

Jack passed the silent-once-more pair, and sauntered down the corridor.

"Jackie!" he shouted, upon seeing the woman deep in conversation with the mysterious Uncle Mortimer. "Party in my room," he said, shaking the half-empty bottle for her to see. "Morty can come, too, if he wants." He threw his arm around Jackie's shoulders and escorted her deeper into the ship.

* * *

The Doctor stared over Rose's head at the corridor. He'd waited until they were alone. He'd thought they _were_ alone. And thus far he'd managed to drop the ring box; be unable to utter a single coherent phrase to her, let alone ask her to marry him; drop the ring itself; and speak his first - albeit pitifully inadequate - words to _Jack _of all people.

Not how he'd imagined this.

He finally worked up the courage to look down at Rose. To his surprise (he wasn't sure yet if it was going to be pleasant or not), she was chewing on her bottom lip with just a bit of a grin forming.

"This - it's not how I'd planned..." he trailed off, looking back down at the grating and trying to guess in which component of his magnificent ship the ring now lay.

Rose's feet cut off his view as she stepped in closer to him. "You had plans?" she asked.

He looked back up to see a full-fledged smile on her face. Maybe this wasn't going quite as badly as he'd feared.

He took the hand that wasn't clutching at her sheet in both of his, closing it around the now empty ring box. "Oh, yes, I had plans," he told her, pulling her even nearer. "Beginning with -" his throat went dry again. Why? She already knew, all he had to do was say it! _Please, please, please_, he begged his uncooperative body.

"Yeah, we covered that part already," Rose laughed as his silence persisted.

"We did," the Doctor managed to squeak. He smiled at her, feeling a bit more of the tension ease.

Hesitantly, he let down the mental barriers he'd thrown up earlier in his panic. The golden light of her consciousness softly brushed against his again. Rose let out a small gasp as her eyes fluttered closed.

He released her hand, reaching up to cradle her face as he whispered in her ear. "I love you, Rose," he told her at last, letting his corresponding feelings flood across their still unexplained connection.

"Marry me."

* * *

_There, he said it! And you get the longest chapter in three days, to boot :)_

_Oh, and I had to do a Wikipedia search on Absinthe, so blame them for any inaccuracies in its description... not that they even addressed the matter of seeing ghosts._


	21. Something to Believe In

_A/N: We, the Authors (**The Chibi's Are Stalking Me**, **Isis the Sphinx**, **Kathryn Shadow**,** NewDrWhoFan**, **Olfactory-Ventriloquism**, **SilverWolf7**, and me, **Jessa L'Rynn**) in order to form a more perfect Who-dom, establish canon, ensure domestic discombobulation, provide for the common offense, promote the general (or at least the Brigadier) and his welfare, and ensure the blessings of UST, to ourselves and our favorite fandom, do ordain and establish that, while we do not OWN Doctor Who, we will have this Institution for a song. Any song. So go ahead, BBC, sing for us!!_

* * *

**_Chapter 21: Something to Believe In_**

Rose looked up at her Doctor, smiling dreamily into his dark eyes. "I'm gonna wake up, now, aren't I?" she asked, knowing full well that she probably would.

He sputtered for a moment, and then his face broke into that beautiful, delighted grin she'd first seen when he'd silently asked her opinion of the brown pinstripes. "Are you trying to tell me that if you dreamed I asked you to marry me, it'd be a disaster?"

"A disaster?" she asked, confused. "No, not a disaster. This is... I mean... Jack just staggered through, the ring's disappeared, Mum's probably on her way, unless Jack managed to lure her off, there's a ghost and a cat on board, I think I can feel you in my head, and the TARDIS is talking to me. I mean, She has before, but just a word here or there, nothing like this..."

"Well, it wasn't what I had planned, not anything like it, actually. I was going to be all debonair and sexy and probably in my tux, and you definitely weren't going to be wearing a sheet, though I'm not sure what, if anything, I had in mind for you to be wearing... I mean..."

"If anything?" she teased. She grinned up at him as he blushed.

"Well, I was thinking more along the lines of that dress you wore the other day, something a bit formal, or maybe something old fashioned, I like it when you wear period clothes, or... did you say the cat's on board?"

"Yeah, think I saw her streak in here." Suddenly frustrated, Rose frowned at him. This was rather more like she'd imagined a proposal with him might go, actually. Him getting distracted by something inconsequential. Maybe she wasn't dreaming after all.

"Which one?" he asked urgently. "Tell me it was Diabla, she's harmless. I already knew she was on board. Little oreo cat, completely stupid, no problem."

"It was Lovey," she sighed.

He swore, suddenly and colorfully. "Right." He glanced up at the ceiling. "Where is she?"

"_Heading for the subsidiary console room_," the TARDIS replied and She sounded thoroughly miffed, in Rose's opinion. "_Are you sure it's a cat?_"

"No," he answered, and jerked his hands through his hair. "If there's one thing I am absolutely not certain of in any way, shape, or form, it's the secret identity of that diabolical little fuzzy terrorist. C'mon, Rose, we've got to catch her."

"_Don't forget this,_" the TARDIS said, and Rose turned to the console, to find the small, sparkling bit of jewelry sitting there, snugly, back in its box as if nothing had ever happened.

"How?" Rose wondered, as the Doctor picked up and swiftly pocketed the box.

"Time machine," he answered and snatched her hand. "Run."

* * *

Lovey smiled with feline satisfaction. So far, the machine mind had tried to corral her into three different rooms, confuse her with a maze of corridors, and lure her with a small pile of cat crunchies. It was never going to happen. Where ever she was heading, they did not want her to go there, and it was therefore her duty to the feline species to get there as soon as possible. Upon arrival, it would be her further responsibility to wreak any and all havoc and destruction that presented itself.

She had the idea that this was a good place for havoc and destruction.

* * *

"This is more what I was expecting," Rose shouted, as she and the Doctor tore through the corridors. The TARDIS had shifted everything to make their path easier, but it still involved a lot of twists and turns and a truly obscene bit of running. She knew that, because she'd lost her sheet three turns back and was now running in nothing but mint green knickers and a frilly lace camisole. If there was anything more obscene than that, it was likely the look on the Doctor's face as he turned to catch a glance at her.

"Forget the cat," he growled, suddenly, stopping so abruptly that she nearly ran right into him. He didn't seem to mind. "Let her take over the Universe, she won't know what to do with it once she's got it."

Rose stared up at him, gasping for air and wishing she at least had on a sports bra underneath the camisole. "Wha..."

His lips dove down to cover her startled exclamation, his tongue thrusting between her parted lips, stealing what little air she'd managed to seize and sending all her senses reeling like a drunk on New Year's. Her head fell back and his lips trailed down, that oral fixation of his coming into play in ways she'd only dreamt (and maybe fantasized) of. His tongue flicked along her jaw, then across her throat, lapping up the salt of her skin, finally fixating on her pulse point. She whimpered.

"You never did answer me, my Rose," he whispered.

"Wha..." she breathed. Answer what? Whatever the question was, the answer was "yes". She was pretty certain of that, as her brain didn't really have anything to say on any subject at the moment. Unless the answer was "yes, please, god, now!!". That would work, too.

His lips seemed to have gone into a sort of hover mode above her left ear, his tongue tracing the lobe briefly before he just seemed to stop and wait. Did he really have a question that was so important he needed an answer this much? Enough to drive her crazy with wanting him to get on with... driving her crazy?

Oh, wait. There was one. THE question. He'd said two things, both of which had been haunting her dreams since... maybe she shouldn't think that, with him in her head. She smiled slowly, lazily. "My Doctor." She reached up and stroked his jaw, where a bit of stubble was just starting to make itself known. "I..."

A nearby door opened and Jack tumbled out of it. Rose dove behind the Doctor and hid. No WAY did Jack need to be seeing her in these clothes. Even if she would have heard the end of it eventually, he was apparently immortal, so it wouldn't be any time in the foreseeable future. "Good morning, and welcome to Party Naked TARDIS!!" Jack exclaimed enthusiastically. He was obviously very, very far gone.

"Not now, Jack," the Doctor said, firmly.

"C'mon, Doc," Jack said, flirtatiously. "I'll buy you a drink." He waved his very nearly empty bottle invitingly.

"Considering what you're drinking, Jack, I don't even know which one of me you're talking to, and neither do you. Go on, get some rest, so you don't have to shoot yourself to get rid of the hang-over."

"How'd you know?" Jack demanded.

The Doctor sighed. "Had a friend do that once at Academy. Mind, he'd been on a six month bender in Low Town, so it might have been the smell." The Doctor folded his arms over his chest, the outer one pointing firmly at the door. "Go now."

"What are you doing? I can help."

"I have to chase a cat," the Doctor said.

Jack collapsed on the floor, laughing. "Never heard it put that way before," he muttered between great seizures of giggling. Finally, mercifully, he passed out.

Rose peeked around the Doctor. "Is he dead?" she asked, because he looked alarmingly pale.

"It doesn't matter," the Doctor answered. "If he is, he'll be up in a minute."

"OK," she said, amazed at how accepting she had suddenly become. "I was just wondering, because if he wasn't, I was going to kill him."

The Doctor grinned at her. "Let's go fetch that wretched feline."

* * *

The Doctor caught Lovey about six inches from the Auxiliary Dematerialization Circuit. "Oh, no you don't!" he exclaimed. "You have caused me far too much trouble for one life time, and you're not even an alien invader."

Lovey looked up at him and innocently batted her eyes at him. "Don't even bother," he said. "I've gotten much more impressive pleading looks than those." He held the cat at arms length and looked around the small, cramped, dusty, and disused room. "How did you even find this place? I haven't seen it since... I can't remember ever having seen it. Have you, Rose? Rose?"

He looked around for - hopefully - his fiancee and found her leaning against the door frame, her eyes closed and her body slowly sagging into sleep. With a sigh, he grabbed one of his old coats from the nearby hat stand, stuffed the protesting feline into the pocket, and put the coat on. Then, he picked Rose up before she fell and turned to carry her back to her room.

On his way down the corridor, he nudged Jack with his toe and found the ex-Time Agent breathing, which was good. It was irritating to have a cat that had rolled in something smelly in his pocket, but he had a feeling it would be more irritating to have another dead person cluttering up the corridors in the morning when Jackie recovered from whatever said person had done to her (which he most emphatically did not want to know.)

He nudged Rose's door open and moved to settle her onto her bed. She didn't want to go. "My Doctor," she muttered and a golden wave of possessive affection washed over him. It felt like home.

His hearts turned over and he grinned. "Time all good pink and yellow humans were in bed asleep," he murmured.

"Kay," she said, and finally let him settle her in. Her sheet was missing, of course, but he found the duvet easily enough and tucked her in gently.

He played with the box in his pocket and wondered if she would ever get to answer the question.

"Yes," she said.

He blinked at her. "What was that, love?" he asked, softly, sitting down next to her and taking her hand.

She yawned and opened her eyes, blinking at him in confusion. "Doctor?"

"Yes, Rose?"

"What are you wearing?"

He glanced down at the coat. "I needed something to put Lovey in while I carried you back here."

"Oh, good," she said. "Then it wasn't a dream?"

"No, Rose, it wasn't a dream."

"Good." She smiled at him softly. "You look ridiculous."

"Hey, this is my best coat for keeping a cat in. Used to keep 'em pinned to the lapels."

"S'okay," she said, "I love you anyway." Then, she grinned at him, her little pink tongue poking out invitingly. "You got pictures?"

"I can show you, tomorrow," he offered warily, hoping she'd forget that part, though not the part where she said she loved him, because he rather thought he'd like to hear that a lot more often. Thirty or forty times a day, maybe. She yawned and he smiled, tenderly. "Go to sleep now, precious girl."

"Nuh," she complained. "Was s'posed to tell you something," she muttered fretfully.

"Close your eyes, now," he soothed. "We can tell each other everything in the morning."

She did as she was asked and he leaned over and kissed her forehead. He retreated to the door because he still had a cat from hell to deal with, even though the recliner beckoned.

He got the door closed part the way, before Rose's sweet, sleepy voice stopped him. "Doctor, I remembered."

"Remembered what, Rose?"

"I was s'posed to tell you yes," she answered. Then she turned over and there was a soft snore.

He tried to keep the fireworks going off in his head down to a dull roar so they wouldn't disturb her.

* * *

Once back in the console room, he laid in a quick set of coordinates. "Gently, Old Girl, like when you were first trying to impress her. We have what appears to be our family on board and we don't want to disturb them."

The TARDIS matched his exaltation at the words "our family" and followed the sequence like a brand-new Type-120, not even a noise to accompany her side-step through time. "Fantastic," he assured her, as he checked the date.

Then, he picked up the phone, called directory assistance, found a roofer, and set a visit for in the morning. Another few quick calls arranged for a visit in regards to the septic system. It might be a teeny paradox (or, as Jackie would have it, pair of ducks), and maybe he was abusing his privilege as a time traveler, but what was the good of being a time traveler if you couldn't occasionally use it to soften up your soon-to-be mother-in-law.

Not that Jackie apparently needed softening. According to Jack, she was actually trying to get them together. But why? She'd never been so keen on keeping him around before, as his right cheek was still willing to attest if confronted by her while she was in a strop.

Maybe she'd just said it because she was trying to impress Jack? The way she was acting, he was almost completely convinced she'd been trying to catch them... _inflagrante delicto_. For her own satisfaction? Some bet with her mates back on the Estate? It wasn't like she had ever, _ever_ believed he wasn't shagging her daughter.

In fact, as far as he knew, he and Rose and maybe Madame de Pompadour (maybe, never could tell with Reinette, she did sort of suggest Rose should pass him around like a tin of biscuits at a tea party) had to be the only people who believed they weren't shagging. Mickey had outright called Rose his Mrs. to his face, the police officer who'd pointedly asked him had actually written down "denies sexual nature of relationship", Jack had boldly quizzed he and Rose both over rumored quirks in his biology, random strangers asked them how long they had been together.

Effectively, the entire Universe knew before they did. He set the TARDIS back neatly when they'd left and contemplated this until Uncle Mortimer came meandering in and hovered at him. "Warning?" he asked.

Jackie staggered in after Uncle Mortimer. Warning indeed.

"What?" he asked while she glowered at him like a basilisk.

"You are an impossible alien menace," she muttered, "and my headache is your fault."

"Is not. Blame Jack." Nevertheless, he steered her to the med-bay and found her some impressive 52nd century pain killers. "Take two and call me in the morning."

"You need to get on with it, you ridiculous alien, or I swear to god, I'm going to start buying apples."

With that absurd and truly insane drunken threat, she staggered back to her room and went to bed.

The Doctor sat down in the jump seat and laughed himself silly.

* * *

Jack woke in a TARDIS corridor to the sound of frantic fretting in his ear. "Jack, answer me!" Gwen's pleading continued. She went on about temporal shifts and Suzie and Tosh detecting all sorts of funny activity from his location, and no one had seen Owen or knew where he was, and Ianto had ordered the coffee maker evicted from the premises and had sent Lisa to get them a new one, and if he didn't answer in five seconds, she was coming down there whether he liked it or not.

He toggled the earpiece and growled at her that everything was fine, that sometimes he had to be incommunicado, and that if she didn't like it, she was welcome to go back to the Police Department permanently, even if he didn't mean it. Then, he staggered into his shower, cleaned up, rescued his coat from Diabla, and went to find out if anyone had survived the night, as he was reasonably certain he hadn't.

He wandered out of the shed to sunlight and the sounds of heavy pounding. Mr. I-Don't-Do-Domestic was playing sidewalk superintendent to a group of disgruntled looking roofers, ordering around a couple of blokes with heavy equipment, and generally bouncing around like home improvement was the ultimate goal and purpose of the Oncoming Storm.

"Good to see you made it," the Doctor sang out gleefully as Jack glowered at him. Then, the Doctor snatched his arm and dragged him inside the house.

Next thing he knew, he and the Time Lord were moving furniture. Specifically, they were discarding the mattress in one bedroom, and dragging out the sofa. It was interesting to be reminded that the skinny, wiry frame hid inhuman strength along with impossible intellect.

"What's got you so chipper this morning, Doc?" he ventured when they settled down in the kitchen to a cup of tea. "You act like you finally... Oh." Jack grinned as realization dawned. There really was only one possible explanation for the giddy energy.

"Oh, what?" the Doctor demanded.

"You finally got some, didn't you?" Jack asked.

The Doctor glowered forbiddingly and looked like he was about to deliver a blistering tirade on Jack. Jack leaned back and polished his halo while the Doctor opened his mouth.

There was a thunderous, crackling pop from outside, punctuated immediately by a group of people all shouting "what the hell was that?!" The kitchen tap turned on, water pouring out of it like it was hooked into the Atlantic Ocean. Sounded like this wasn't the only place it had happened, if the sounds coming from the small laundry room and the microscopic bathroom were any clue.

His earpiece squealed and then Suzie's voice came on, desperately relaying that every activity monitor in the place had just come on like... well, like Christmas in London, these days. It was followed by the inevitable, "What the hell was that?!"

Lovey jumped up onto the table, then into his lap, digging her claws in and clinging to him for dear life. Uncle Mortimer's ghost appeared, fluctuating between not there at all and almost completely solid.

The Doctor flung his hands up over his ears and jumped to his feet, racing for door. Jack detached the frantic cat, then followed at a dead run. They took the porch steps two at a time and glanced around the house.

Then they looked at each other in undisguised confusion. "What the hell is that?" they both demanded simultaneously.

Rose appeared behind them. "Out of curiosity," she said, calmly, "is this the part where we run for our lives?"

Jack and the Doctor looked at each other, looked at the enormous, silver, god-only-knew-what that seemed to have been unearthed by the guys dealing with the septic tank, looked back at Rose. As one, they shrugged.

* * *


	22. They Just Keep Killing Suzie

_You must not try to find the paper. That is impossible. You can only try to realize the truth. What truth? That there is no ownership of Doctor Who._

_Y'all (I'm from Texas) have no idea how much that breaks the hearts of __**The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, Isis the Sphinx, Jessa L'Rynn, Kathryn Shadow, NewDrWhoFan, SilverWolf7, **and** Olfactory-Ventriloquism** (that's me)._

* * *

_**Chapter 22: They Just Keep Killing Suzie**_

There was a slight scratchy quality to the cloth that tangled through Rose's legs. Sleepily, she shifted her left leg slightly and found she recognized the fabric. She opened bleary eyes, struggled into an almost sitting position, and a weak frown crossed her brow. Where had her sheet disappeared to? She allowed her head to flop back onto her inviting pillow, and memory confronted her.

Oh God, he had asked her -

Well, she never actually thought he would -

Why had he chosen now to -

With effort, Rose forced her thoughts to cease ending before finishing, and managed to compile a rather important sentence. Did he know she said yes? Had he believed her sleepy proclamation? Had he heard it? Three complete, coherent sentences, she was proud of herself. Pushing fatigue and lingering shock to the back of her mind, Rose virtually leaped from her bed and began to throw on clothes without pausing to examine them. It didn't really matter what she looked like; after all, the Doctor's plans had already crumbled, and she'd never had any. All that mattered was that he knew her answer was unequivocally, univocally, and irrevocably yes.

She emerged from the TARDIS wearing, by pure happenstance, instinct, or TARDIS design, the jeans that flattered her rear bumper and a low-cut, sleeveless back satin top with a sprinkling of lilac flowers. Her hair was mussed, but it made her approachable, added to her appeal. This fact was not lost on the workers that watched her pass, staring around her in wonder at the transformation the house was taking on from building in serious need of repair to building in the middle of repair. Not an attractive change, but a notable one all the same.

After she turned a corner, in pursuit of the Doctor, the men who were digging to reach the septic tank returned to their task. Almost immediately and far too soon, a shovel connected with metal with a dull thunk. Curiously, the diggers abandoned their shovels and began to uncover what they believed to be a dangerously shallow septic tank.

Cracks sounded followed shortly by resounding shouts of surprise and confusion. Two men crashed out of the nearest door and stared at the oblong silver device being unearthed. Rose, intuitively following the "What the hell is that?" that was cried in stereo, came back around the corner, an eyebrow raised. She made a quip, of that she was sure, and Jack soon wandered off, speaking urgently into his ear piece. One particularly astute septic worker went over to the water meter, and shut off the water.

"Brilliant, that man." The Doctor declared, and grinned over at Rose. Her breath stopped as, for the first time that morning, he took in her appearance. Intensity flared in his gaze, and she could feel a possessive need pulse down their link. Her mouth, suddenly dry, opened soundlessly. Words had escaped her. The Doctor smirked. "We've been through this bit already." He reminded her, his chuckle sending pleasant shivers through her. Rose nodded.

"I said yes." She blurted out. "Last night. I said yes. I'll marry you." The link in her head blazed with joy and love and awe and desire; her eyes half closed in an effort to recover her senses. The Doctor chuckled again, this time against her ear, tingling down her spine. When had he gotten so close? Rose tightened the hold she didn't remember initiating. "I love you, Doctor."

His lips crashed down against her, swallowing her words, internalizing them. By the time they broke apart, Rose felt her short-term memory had been short circuited.

"I love you, Rose Tyler." He murmured against her lips.

Jack chose that moment to return.

"Well, my team is on its way. I couldn't really stop them after this. Apparently the rift went crazy. So, we better move the TARDIS, unless you think you can keep six sets of curious eyes from prying inside. Oh, and Doctor? Don't let Owen check you out. He's a doctor in his own right, and will probably pick up on little things like you having two hearts."

The Doctor swore softly, and dragged Rose behind him into the TARDIS.

* * *

Suzie stared at the dilapidated house in near astonishment. It wasn't the most obvious place for alien technology to wash up. Gwen came up behind her.

"What's all this then?" She asked in her heavy Welsh accent. "You've seen plenty weirder, no need for surprise."

"That's just it." Suzie said cautiously. "Every single place I've been since I started in Torchwood has been more alien than this place. Can it be any more domestic?" She shook her head. "I don't know. It just gives me a weird feeling." She shrugged. "It's nothing. Come on, let's go find Jack. He's bound to be in the thick of it."

They found Jack lounging in the swing chair on the back porch. He greeted them cheerfully. Gwen decided he was entirely to calm.

"The Rift was off the charts! Jack, why are you just sitting there? We need to know what's going on."

"That's why I have you guys. I can't really do anything with no gear. Whatever it is is over there." He gave them a charming grin and motioned to the long trench dug in the yard. Suzie rolled her eyes and shrugged her bag further up on her shoulder. With her mouth set in a grim line, she led the advance on the oblong object. As she climbed into the hole, a rock slipped and tumbled towards the object. Suzie, losing her footing, followed it and overtook it. She landed with one hand on the object.

A flash of light nearly blinded everyone in the vicinity. Jack was on his feet and at the side of the hole before the light had truly died. All that was left was a pile of thawing pieces of flesh, scattered along the ground. He stood up woodenly and backed away, shielding Gwen's eyes and motioning for the others to stay back.

"Suzie." He whispered brokenly.

* * *


	23. Lock It, Locket, and Lookit

_Well, I have offically given up finding the piece of paper now, since it clearly isn't here at the moment, unless the huntsman in my room ate it, which wouldn't surprise me. For something that is supposed to only eat insects...I swear it ate a mouse the other day, so I really wouldn't put it past it to eat paper too for the roughage._

_**The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, Isis the Sphinx, Jessa L'Rynn, Kathryn Shadow, NewDrWhoFan, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, **and** SilverWolf7** (today's author), would like to say sorry for this. Well, sorry if there was anyone who actually wanted us crazy people to actually hold the rights to Doctor Who._

_The Lookit in the title, in case anyone was wondering is "Look at", smooshed together, but you probably all already knew that. Lock it, is for the TARDIS. Locket...is easy enough to understand :P_

* * *

**_Chapter 23 - Lock it, Locket, and Lookit._**

"No one touch it! Got that! Stay away from the silver...thing," Jack shouted towards both his team and the workers who were, of all the stupid things, inching forwards to go check out the smouldering remains of what was left of Suzie.

One of the smarter workers scurried away (it was the same one who had shown he was smarter than the others before his team had arrived) while one, in his infinite dumbness inched forwards, touching the silver metal with a curiosity which, as the saying goes, killed the cat. Diabla and Lovey were fine, the worker was not.

He threw his arms in the air, uncovering Gwen's eyes, and walked back towards the house to try and find something to cover the silver box thing up. "You tell someone not to touch something, and naturally the first thing they do is touch it..." he muttered to himself as he walked over to where the Doctor and Rose were currently seated on the lounge, too lost at staring at each other than the smell of dead animal which was heavy around the piece of furniture.

"So!" he said loudly, noticing that he may have, once again, interrupted something big. "What do you think that thing is, cause, Doctor, I have no idea."

An angry sigh made it out of the resident alien's mouth and Jack grinned. Oh yeah, he had definitely interrupted something. Those two would be doing it like bunnies if they weren't already. About time too.

"I don't know Jack. Just...I hope that they don't go crazy looking through the roses too much. I parked the TARDIS in as a sort of...Londonish rose garden type kind of...thing, ornament. Statue. That'll be it. Think they'll notice? I put her on emergency power, so she shouldn't be giving off any kind of signal at all right now. Well, not one that your instruments should pick up anyway."

"Doctor! It'll be fine. They're too busy figuring out how to get to Suzie's body without actually, you know, touching the silver metal thingy. It's killing people now by the way. Suzie was pulverised. Nothing left but a hunk of smouldering meat. And so is one of the workers." Naturally he was much more upset about Suzie. He had liked Suzie. He had almost forgotten about the other casualty of the silver thing.

Hmm, they should really give it a name. Silver Box of Death? No, no, that one was probably already taken somewhere...

Not as much as Silver Box of DOOM, which probably has a trademark.

"Poor Suzie...whoever she was," Rose said distractedly, as she got up off the lounge and made her way to the window to look outside. "Oh, and there are now 3 smouldering husks of dead bodies. Think maybe another ... oh, mum!"

Remembering his little drinking session last night, and getting Diabla and Jackie involved, Jack ran after her, towards the rose gardens, where the TARDIS stood in all her glory. Thankfully, Jackie was just then coming out of it, holding her head and waving slightly as the hangover implied that several of her brain cells had died from the alcohol she had drunk the night before.

She spotted him, looked up, and her lips thinned and her eyes turned to evil little slits that would be much more at home on Lovey's face and she came tearing over to him as fast as she could. "You! What the hell did you make me do last night?"

* * *

Jack had run away. A cowardly, silly little boy thing, but still he ran away, leaving Jackie by herself with her daughter hugging her side and not looking to let go any time soon, and a cat or two which were weaving in and out of her ankles. Bending down, she got dizzy and fell to the ground instead.

"Ooof! Rose, sweetheart, mind giving me a hand back on my feet?"

"Mum! Why don't you just...go rest or something? Oh! And don't go touching the Silver Thing. No, really, it's actually killing people. Some Torchwood girl called Suzie is now dead, and some of the workers too."

Jackie threw her hands in the air. "Brilliant it is! Next I'll be seeing their ghosts too."

Making her angry way towards the house, glad that the horrible throbbing in her head was dying down with her anger a little, she made her way to the bathroom, took a few Ibuprofen (the Doctor wouldn't let her have aspirin anywhere near any room he went in) and went to lie down on the bed in the room she had chosen. Diabla, silly cat as she was, though with a lovely disposition, was pawing at a section on the floor, and Jackie noticed, almost missed completely, that one of the floorboards moved slightly.

Frowning, and knowing that that wasn't supposed to happen, she got on her hands and knees near the spot, grabbed something thin in which to get between the boards (a knitting needle of all things, but it was a sturdy one) and managed to, after a bit of grunting and wiggling about to get the board up and peeked inside the little cubby under it, which didn't house much at all.

A spider crawled out, and she dropped the knitting needle and scurried away from it, and was ultimately save from the embarrassment of being scared of something she had lived with and gotten used to for the past god knew how many years by Diabla who had pounced and ate the thing.

Silly cat.

But at least the spider was now gone.

Creeping forwards, she peered back in the hole in the floor, and with a bit of caution, stuck her hand in. She touched something small and metal, which was attached to a chain by the feel of it. Pulling it out, she saw it was a necklace with a locket attached.

She tried and failed to get it undone to see what was inside, to see whose it was, but failed. It was either stuck, or it was evil.

She decided against keeping it and hiding it away because it was rather pretty, to take it to the Doctor and have him scan it with that damned screwdriver of his.

* * *

Ever since seeing her in the TARDIS chosen clothes she had worn, the Doctor had been thinking about sex. With her. In several different positions, and rooms. She knew this for a fact, because his mind, which she couldn't necessarily see into and read, but could feel his emotions and things, was projecting images. Images, which included full surround sound, a husky and very sexy commentary of everything he wanted to do to her following along with each and every action.

His eyes were almost black with his thoughts, and hers were too.

She wanted him so much right then.

And then, of course, Jack had come over to interrupt, and she had been afraid that the third pile of meat outside the place was her mum and had ran off to the TARDIS to see if it was, only to meet Jackie and Diabla coming out from a night of drinking.

Her mum had been muttering about the no aspirin thing, so she tried to explain that the Doctor was allergic, but her mum wasn't listening to her.

Her mum, who was now coming into the lounge room again, was holding a piece of jewellery on a chain out to the Doctor. "Oi! Where's that screwdriver of yours? This thing needs to be bleeped with it. I found it in my room, under a floorboard which Diabla helped show me."

Great, so now the cats were helping her find hidden compartments in floors.

Her life wasn't half crazy.

The Doctor took the object, brought out said sonic device and bleeped it to an inch of its...making.

"Oh! Oh...well. This is interesting. Yes, very interesting. Where'd you say you found this Jackie? In your room? Where?"

Her mum rolled her eyes at him, and said, very slowly so he got the point this time around. "Oh, I dunno. Could it possibly be in the hole in the floor where the floorboard is missing? Idiot man."

The Doctor wandered off into the bedroom with said hole in the floor, leaving her alone with her mum. She smiled brightly at her and went over to clasp her hands.

"Oh, mum! I'm so happy right now. You'll never guess what happened last night."

Just before she could tell about the engagement and how she was all set to officially marry the Doctor a loud noise that could either be abject terror, or extreme accomplishment (you wouldn't believe how close the two sounds were when they were coming from him, sometimes) sounded from the room her mum had been sleeping in and their conversation was cut off short.

Another scream from outside stated that yet another of the workers had been turned to roast meat.

She ignored that last and went to the room instead.

Her eyes almost bugged out of her head at what she saw there.

"What in the world are you doing?!"


	24. Unexpected Happenings & Doom

_I have refused to give up on the Quest for the Rights to Doctor Who. I'm planning to just go to the BBC with a javelin and politely ask Steven for them, but unfortunately I live in Missouri, can't levitate, haven't got the money to get someone else to levitate me, and left my javelin somewhere in the Pegasus galaxy… ah well._

_Well. This might be a bit of a lame chapter, but this chapter is, of course, rated T and the first fifteen thoughts that popped into my head at the end of the last chapter were… most definitely not. (The dirtiness of my mind is woven throughout history. When disaster comes, it's there, and it brings the storm in its wake. Yes, I have just watched the entire first series in one night.)_

_**Little thing that nobody's going to care about **__is the fact that this is the last chapter of this story that I will write. Yes, I'm leaving you alone until the probable sequel. You can start running around screaming happily now. It's seven minutes late, but I made up for it by making it four hundred and seven words short, so your anguish is not as prolonged as it has been in the past._

_**WARNING: UN-BETAED. This is NOT a good thing. (I like bold type. :)**__**)**_

_While I, __**Kathryn Shadow,**__ send chibi!Dalek!Rose after __**SilverWolf7**__, while **The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, Isis the Sphinx, **__**Jessa L'Rynn, NewDrWhoFan, **and **Olfactory-Ventriloquism **__look on and giggle, please attempt to enjoy the unique crappiness that shall proceed from this point right here. ._

* * *

_**Chapter 24: Unexpected Happenings and Doom**_

Before we go on with this increasingly interesting tale, let it be said that the Doctor was not, in fact, doing anything that was not something that, say, a five-year-old human from the 1800s would be allowed to see. This is not to insinuate that he wasn't _thinking _about doing things that a five-year-old human from the 1800s would not be allowed to see— indeed, the things running through his head were of the sort that would make Jack blush and had been doing quite a good job of making Rose turn several interesting shades of mauve for the last five minutes or so— because that is, of course, a completely different matter.

What he was doing, if we are to fully get back to the story, was, although it would be a completely normal happenstance for anyone else, absolutely unheard-of from the Doctor. What he was doing was, in fact, petting a cat.

It would have been odd enough had he been petting any ordinary cat, or indeed petting any ordinary cat while cradling the said feline in the arm that wasn't currently occupied with the aforementioned petting; however, what initiated Rose's apparently overdramatic reaction was the fact that the cat he was holding and petting was not an ordinary cat. Nor was she Diabla or any other normally abnormal cat.

The cat he was holding and petting was, oddly enough, Lovey. She was, of course, not very happy about this particular happenstance. In fact, she was beginning to yowl in that exact pitch that should have torn the Doctor's eardrums into tiny tiny bits; however, she had unfortunately forgotten that he was not human and was therefore immune to such noises.

She growled and tried to scratch him instead, but he was a clever being despite his apparent masochism and had immobilized her legs with the hand that wasn't scratching her ears.

"This cat," he said, oblivious to Rose's horror, "is brilliant."

Lovey, for all her indignation, was not immune to flattery. She calmed down a little bit, looking smug while still patiently trying to chew his hand. Her neck wasn't quite long enough.

This is it, thought Rose. We're going to die. There's a Silver Box of Doom outside and the Doctor is petting the most evil cat in existence; the end of the universe is happening five hundred trillion years early.

"…What?" she asked him. She couldn't think with him thinking at her. It was slightly discombobulating and now she was _really _disturbed because she had a nagging suspicion she'd just inadvertently stolen that word from the Doctor's brain.

"This cat," he repeated, "is brilliant."

Lovey hissed at him, trying to writhe out of his grasp, but he was stronger.

"What'd she—" She paused for a moment. She wasn't entirely sure whether it was because of the Rose-centric thought that was currently occupying the Doctor's mind (she had no idea how he could keep so many things in his brain at one time. He replied that he had an exceptionally large mind, but she wasn't entirely sure why he was imitating a very depressed robotic voice as he thought this to her) or because of the Lovey-centric thought that had just barged into hers.

"Put the cat down," she instructed him— very slowly, as if he were an errant toddler who couldn't understand her if she was speaking more quickly than ten words a minute— "and tell me what she's done that hasn't added to our problems."

He was silent for a moment. His fingers ceased their movement over the cat's skull.

"What?"

"Bit of a problem there," he said hesitantly.

A horrible creeping dread began to solidify in Rose's stomach.

"I don't think I can put her down without her killing me."

She sighed, rolling her eyes and turning to leave the room. "I'll go get Jack."

* * *

Jack, of course, had problems of his own.

Apart from the most obvious— this being to try and stop idiots from touching the Silver Box of Doom (He wondered if it was more original if he didn't capitalize the entirety of "doom". He wasn't completely sure, and he would try and find out, but he had more important things to do) after he had told them several times not to and after several of them had rather impressively blown up— he also had the problem of trying to find out what it was. He would have difficulty finding out what it was until he found out precisely what it was that it _did_, and that, although to the inexperienced observer this might be obvious, was a bit hard to do. The easiest way that Jack could see was touching it himself, but he wasn't sure how he'd come back after that one or even if he would want to. He couldn't remember the last time he had been blown into small pieces, much less how he came back from it or even if it had happened in the first place.

Understandably, upon Rose's coming into view (looking only slightly less inattentive than she had the last time he had seen her— he didn't know what their dearly beloved Time Lord had done to her, but it must have been pretty impressive to drive her to this level of distraction for this long) and requesting that he relieve the Doctor of Lovey so that he could explain why he had been so delighted with her existence in the first place, he was not very happy. He went along with it, though, deciding that being torn apart was actually quite similar to being blown apart and if he could come back from that he could probably figure out what the Silver Box of Insert-alarming-noun-here did, and therefore what it was.

Lovey didn't actually manage to kill him, but she gave it a really good try.

Rose, of course, didn't notice his discomfort.

"So what'd she do?" she inquired, as Jack dropped the cat on the floor and watched blood trickle down his arm. Naturally, being Lovey, the creature refused to run away and instead started chewing on his leg.

"Found what's been keeping Morty," he replied, grinning happily.

She nodded wisely. "So it is alien." She was more than a little reassured at this; she didn't need the supernatural added to her list of things to worry about.

"Yes." He shared this opinion, apparently.

"I don't suppose she's also found out why Mum's faking insanity?" she inquired, not even half-hopeful.

The Doctor paused for a moment, unease flitting across his features. "About that," he began, uncertainty creeping into and taking over his voice.

She blinked at him and wondered if that was anatomically possible even for him. Their mutual affection was impressed gently into her mind as he spoke his next words.

"Don't tell her."

* * *


	25. Might Be A Problem

_Friends, Romans, Countrymen, Lend Me Your Ears: Savannah understood sooooo very little of KS's chapter. But she still has to write today because...well, she kinda likes the round robin going on. :) ALSO! This week ((should be)) our last go 'round with this story, so I'll do my best to help start wrapping things up. ENJOY!!_

_Disclaimer: I have it on good authority that the rights to DW are hidden in the lowest most dungeon of the Castle la Morte two dimensions over. Until I can convince one of the others to check, none of us ((**The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, Isis the Sphinx, Jessa L'Rynn, Kathryn Shadow, NewDrWhoFan, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, **and** SilverWolf7**...how'd my name get to be first?)) owns Doctor Who._

* * *

**_Chapter 25: Might Be A Problem..._**

That everyone else could see Uncle Mortimer was putting a damper on Jackie's plan. She absently pushed Diabla away, the cat nudging her leg trying to get her attention. The good little cat stared up at her a moment before taking a swipe at Jackie's leg. The woman yelped and glared at Diabla, who meowed up at her and ran to the door, pausing to look back at her and meow again. Jackie frowned at the cat, then followed.

"Ghost, weird thing in the yard, now I'm following a cat." Jackie muttered. "I'm really going crazy."

The cat lead her outside, to the big silver...thing that the workers - now all smoking piles of ash and smelling like somebody'd left meat in the oven too long - and paused to look back and make sure she was there. Then Diabla moved closer to the thing, looking at her reflection, and reached out to lay a paw on top of it.

Nothing happened.

The cat patted the silver thing a few times, then looked back at Jackie.

Jackie looked from the thing to Diabla, back to the thing, then to the cat.

And went looking for the Doctor.

* * *

Jack held the devil-cat at arms length, ignoring her writhing attempts to sever his arm. Lovey glared around at them all with all the force a creature her size could and decided to kill them all as soon as she got loose. Meanwhile, she continued to claw at the human holding her, which normally made people drop her but had yet to work on this one.

At the Doctor's words, he looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

Rose blinked at him. "Don't tell her? Why not?"

The Doctor was about to answer when Jackie walked in, Diabla tagging along at her heels, the woman's eyes wide. "Diabla touched the thing!"

"What?" The three asked in unison, staring at her and the cat. The Doctor pulled a face. "What'd you mean, she touched it?"

Jackie all but glared at him. "What d'you think it means? She just went up to it and touched it, and nothin' happened!"

The Time Lord pulled out his sonic screwdriver, marched over, and scanned Diabla. Then he walked outside, the others following behind him. Jack put Lovey down carefully before following; Lovey stalked over to Diabla who, had she been human, could have been said to be preening. The bad cat hissed at her, then the two went after the humans.

The Doctor was digging around in his pockets when they caught up, and pulled out the locket. When he reached the Silver Box of Horror/Doom/Terror/Death/Some-Other-Word, he pointed the screwdriver at it, checked the readings, then pointed at the locket, and checked the readings. Rose, Jack, Jackie, Diabla, and Lovey watched him, waiting.

He spun around, grinning that mad grin of his; Rose felt his excitement bubbling in her head. He opened his mouth to speak when the Silver Box of Disastrous Words started..._glowing_.

* * *

Gwen, Owen, Toshiko, Ianto, and Liza were taking a break from scanning through the house - which seemed to be all but painted in some weird sort of energy - all sitting around the table sipping coffee which Ianto had apparently pulled out of thin air.

Then a shrill sort of beeping came from nearby, and they all jumped. Tosh ran to her equipment and frowned.

"What is it?" Gwen asked, worried.

"It's an energy spike, a huge one!" Tosh pressed a few buttons, peering at the screen, then thumped it with her hand. "And it's messing with my equipment."

Owen snorted. "Not just a hiccup then. Where's it coming from?"

"Outsi-" She stopped as the beeping turned into one continuous drone. "Everywhere!"

The group looked at each other and the lights overhead flickered.

"This can't be good."

* * *


	26. Solar Energy Is Cool

_**The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, Isis the Sphinx, Jessa L'Rynn, Kathryn Shadow, NewDrWhoFan, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, **and **SilverWolf7 **have not officially given up looking for the papers for Doctor Who, but we never do anything officially.  _

_Authors Note: This week is being juggled a bit. Tonight's update is brought to you by Olfactory-Ventriloquism. She will not be doing Thursday. Mainly because her brother griped at her enough for using her personal computer tonight when he needed to use it for "real work." Is fratricide still illegal?_

* * *

**_Chapter 26: Solar Energy Is Cool_**

"Oh, no." The Doctor wailed in distress, jumping into action. Jack ushered Rose and Jackie back towards the house, keeping himself between them and the Silver Box of Words that Bode Ill and Preferably Begin with 'D'. He could hear the Doctor's voice fade in and out as he ran into the house still moaning. "No, no, no, please no." He returned seconds later and threw a thick bundle of blankets and duvets and various other linens on the device. Within seconds, a whine (so soft and high pitched that it hadn't been consciously noticed by any one there) wound down, and the Doctor deflated in relief.

Rose didn't know what, exactly, had just happened, but she had felt his panic and fear not so much for himself, but, as was his wont, for her and her mother. She ran over to him, and tucked one hand in his, using her other hand to tip his chin up so that he met her eyes. A small smile brought life to his eyes and he crushed her to him, reassuring himself of her continued presence in his arms and in his mind. When he relaxed his grip, she knew he was calm enough to answer questions. She pulled back.

"What was that?" She asked, keeping it simple. He met her gaze grimly, and then the gaze of her mum and Jack over her shoulder.

"We might as well sit down while I explain this."

The group was beginning to head inside when a voice behind them arrested their movement.

"Oh, no!" Jack wasn't the only one surprised to turn and see Gwen stalking up to them shaking some sort of mobile equipment, a transmitter or receiver or sensor or something. "You're not going to swan off again without telling us what's going on."

"I can't." Jack tried, as Rose and the Doctor exchanged amused glances.

"Well, you're not going anywhere." She declared. "Not until we know what's happening." She continued irately. Standersby were beginning to assume this was a common occurrence that she was trying to fight against.

Jackie was the first to view this as an entertainment opportunity. She sat on what had become her favorite chair on the deck in order to watch the fight in a bit more comfort. Rose and the Doctor soon took the swing, his arm around her shoulders. It took enough time for all three audience members to become bored before Gwen accepted the fact that Jack wasn't swanning off and rounded on the Doctor. He cringed slightly, much to Rose's amusement. He tried to ignore her teasing jibes that bounced into his head, and effectively shut her up with a few choice images involving this swing, privacy and whipped cream.

"Well, you can start explaining any time." Gwen said impatiently. Jack got the impression that she was put out for losing the argument. "I for one, would like to know what happened to Suzie."

"She was frozen," the Doctor stated bluntly.

"Frozen?" Jack parroted in surprised and disbelief. He had sprawled over the steps of the deck. Only Gwen, in an effort to have some form of control over a situation and a group of people that embodied chaos, remained standing.

"Frozen." The Doctor repeated himself.

"Hold on," Jackie protested. "They were steaming. All of those people were steaming."

"It's called sublimation." The Doctor explained with a truly prodigious amount of patience in his opinion. "The water molecules go from ice to steam without passing through the liquid state."

"Like when you open a freezer and all that mist comes out?" Rose asked, a cute frown creasing her brow that the Doctor wanted to kiss smooth. And, since he made no effort to shield that particular thought, he got to see her begin to blush as he tightened his arm around her shoulder, drawing her into him so he could press a kiss to the crown of her head.

"Exactly." He pronounced proudly. He turned back to the others. "Have you ever seen something be put into liquid nitrogen and then shattered?" This question was particularly geared towards Jackie and Gwen. They both nodded. "When something is subjected to such cold temperatures, it doesn't take much force to break it. In the case of the people who touched that" he motioned towards the pile of linens "thing, it was the force of gravity, pulling them to the ground that caused their normal body shape to be demolished."

What about the smell?" Jackie insisted. "Smells like something was over-cooked."

"There's more than just muscle in the human body. All those fluids and acids and such can give off a foul smell."

"But why wasn't Diabla frozen?" Rose asked.

"She was." The Doctor said, before backpedaling. "Well a bit. Well, part of her was." He looked at Jackie. "How did she touch it?"

"She just sorta brushed it with the side of her paw."

"Very hard?"

"No." Jackie shook her head. "Barely touched it really, but it didn't hurt her at all."

"The fur that touched it was frozen, but she didn't put her skin on it. No direct contact. That's what this thing needs direct contact. All the pipes went hay wire 'cause, when this thinking went off, it was touching the septic tank, which connects it to all the pipes in the house. It'll need a massive plumbing overhaul." A tick was forming in Jackie's jaw. She looked around, but Morty was nowhere to be found. He was lucky.

"So…you know what it does. Do you know what it is?" Jack drawled.

"It's a Ularion Energy Converter." The Doctor offered. "It's…kinda like a more effective solar panel. It just doesn't work in this galaxy."

"That's why you covered it." Rose interjected. He smiled fondly.

"That's why I covered it. It takes solar energy and converts it into cold. It then releases this cold. Normally, it's held in a pool of a chemical called Grathenide. Grathenide moves when it gets cold, which is the opposite of most compounds, this turns turbines and electricity is produced. The planet it's from had an overabundance of Grathenide, so they decided to put it to use. I'm just not sure how it got here. Unless Morty knew a Ularian. But, anyways, as long as we keep it covered until tonight when I can dispose of it safely, there shouldn't be a problem." He beamed proudly. Jack nodded, and Gwen looked uncomfortable: it was nice to have the mystery solved, but a team member had been lost. Jackie headed inside to try to find a number for someone who could rebuild her plumbing, muttering darkly. Rose sighed happily and snuggled into his side. It was a good moment, all things considered, for the Doctor.

Until a black and white terror stalked out of the house and attached herself to his ankle. The Doctor grimaced and tried to shake her off. This reaction sent Rose into a peal of giggles.

"Thought you said she was brilliant."

"She is. She found a bit of shattered pipe near where the locket was. That's what made me figure it out. I just didn't realize it was so close to over load." He shook his leg again, but the cat would not be dislodged. "That doesn't mean I like her." Rose giggled some more and moved so that she leaned over his ankle. Lovey quickly found herself effectively disconnected from her revenge and cradled in a way that effectively, if comfortably bound her paws. She was most put out. And she didn't purr when an expert hand scratched behind her ears. Not even a bit.

Rose deposited Lovey neatly near her favorite corner of the garden, and returned to the Doctor's side. By this point, Jack had left to escort Gwen to the rest of the team. She could feel the Doctor's contentment and it nourished her own.

"I do love you. You know that, right?" She asked. He smiled, and it seemed as if, for once, he had no problems in the world.

"I can feel it in you. But I will never get tired of hearing you say that."

Rose smiled down at where her hands held one of his. She frowned softly at the bare finger on her left hand.

"Why can't I tell mum?"

* * *


	27. Where Were We?

_A/N: **NewDrWhoFan** here with your Tuesday update. It's hard to believe, but this is, indeed, the last week of this little project of ours. So, be warned: as you've already started to see, all the authors (myself, **The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, Isis the Sphinx, Jessa L'Rynn, Kathryn Shadow, Olfactory-Ventriloquism,** and **SilverWolf7**) are having fun tossing in their last two cents. _

_Thanks to GSRgirlforever for beta-ing this for me :)_

_Disclaimer: I made a wish on a shooting star last night, but we still don't own Doctor Who.  As the Doctor himself pointed out, it wasn't really a star, so even if Jiminy Cricket was right, I messed it all up._

* * *

**_Chapter 27: Where Were We?_**

Jack walked with Gwen into the kitchen where the rest of his team were still assembled. He let Gwen fill them in on what the Doctor had discovered, then led them all outside to the scene of the disaster.

"First thing we should do," Jack said, "is find something better to cover it up with than just these sheets and blankets."

Almost before he had finished speaking, one of the workers pushed his way through the ring of onlookers carrying a large tarp. It was the same worker who had turned off the water and wisely kept his distance from the Ularion Energy Converter of Doom (Jack was mildly disappointed that it had a name, now), earlier. They quickly staked down the tarp over the shallow pit, and arranged caution tape around the area.

"What about Suzie?" Ianto asked.

"We'll come back after sunset, after this thing's taken care of," Jack said, as they headed towards the SUVs. There was still the matter of where this thing came from in the first place, and what had made it act up before it had been unearthed.

* * *

Jackie was on hold with the fourth plumber she'd called. No one seemed to be able to fit her in before two weeks. Idly, she began to wonder about the roofers and septic workers who were atop and outside the house at that very moment. The last she'd checked, she'd been in the same position with them, yet here they were.

She'd asked the Doctor to do something about it, but he'd brushed her off with his ducks comment--whatever that was about. Still, she couldn't miss the fact that something had happened to get them here. Had he helped out after all?

* * *

Before this morning, Mortimer had thought he had probably the best grasp of what was really going on around the house.

And then that Thing had happened.

Still, it had finally clued him in to what he hoped was the missing piece of this whole, confusing puzzle. At the instant the pipes had gone crazy, he  felt strangely drawn to Jackie's room. With a sudden clarity, he remembered the compartment under the floorboard, and more specifically, the locket.

He poked his head through the flooring and saw the locket's chain slipping from where it must have been draped over the now burst pipe. The papers were there, too. Fortunately, though inexplicably, the pipe wasn't leaking but frozen.

Mortimer rushed out of the house to find the Doctor and that Jack person, but neither could see him any longer. Nor could Rose. He tried Jackie, once he'd found where the Doctor's ship had been relocated to, but even she couldn't see him.  Of course, that might simply have been because of her obvious hangover.

That left the cats.

Diabla he knew could see him, because she'd sat attentively at his feet in the garden while he had been trying to talk to Jackie. He led her back to the house to try and find Lovey.

The supposedly clever cat was stalking around the Thing, carefully pawing at its surface. Considering what had happened to the humans who had touched it, Mortimer was surprised that Lovey was still in one piece. However he called her away and into the living room. She followed, but more out of curiosity than obedience, he was sure.

Seated once more in his favorite recliner, Mortimer addressed the felines. "I've just remembered something important," he told them, "but I can't get the others to see me. I need both of you to try and get anyone you can to find a secret compartment in one of the bedrooms."

As soon as he'd said this, both cats looked at him in what he could only describe as astonishment. It was as if they had known about it all along, and were surprised that he'd only just recalled the chamber's existence.

He shook his head to clear it. Clever cats were one thing, but that was ridiculous.

"Anyway," he went on, "there are some things in there for young Rose. Rosa's locket, a copy of my will, and a letter for her. See that she gets them, alright? They're in Jackie's bedroom."

Lovey huffed - no, she must have just coughed - and walked away, while Diabla nuzzeld his chair affectionately.

* * *

Lovey watched Jackie stagger into her bedroom, but was in no mood to carry out Mortimer's wishes. The silver killing machine outside was much more to her liking than straightening out these petty human affairs.

Just as she had decided to go off in search of some food, Lovey saw Diabla slip obediently into Jackie's room. Determined to see if she could at least interfere, Lovey sat by the door, watching as Diabla pawed at the floorboard.

To her disgust, Jackie apparently got the message. She pried up the board, and reached in blindly, retrieving the locket.

Diabla followed Jackie out of the bedroom, smugly brushing by Lovey as she exited. Lovey hissed, but did not follow. Instead, she went to investigate the chamber herself.

To her delight, Lovey saw that her guess had been right. In Diabla's eagerness to please, she'd forgotten the rest of Mortimer's instructions. An envelope which could only be the letter and will he'd mentioned remained untouched within the compartment. Sensing an opportunity for unimaginable mischief, Lovey jumped down into the secret-no-longer chamber to retrieve the envelope. She knew of a perfect hiding place out behind the shed. They'd never find it.

She picked the envelope up in her jaws, and hopped up onto the bedroom floor. Unfortunately for her brilliantly evil scheme, she came face-to-screwdriver with the Doctor.

He'd snatched the packet from her before she could react, and read it faster than any human she'd ever seen, all the while holding her in an impossible-to-escape-from grip. To her increased consternation, he'd seemed even more excited when he'd looked into the compartment for himself, although Lovey knew she'd already gotten the good stuff.

Humans.

She then was forced to endure his petting, and cooing, and general - shudder - pleasantness while he explained her misconstrued actions to the others.

At least she was able to get a few good swipes in at the Jack person when he tried to relieve the Doctor of his burden. That was fun.

And she overheard a delightful little nugget of information to which Diabla was not privy: the Doctor didn't want Jackie to know about... something. From the context, clever cat that she was, Lovey assumed he meant his engagement to Rose.

With all the secrets trying to be kept in this house, Lovey sensed there was still plenty of mischief to be accomplished.

This cheerful train of thought was interrupted, however, when Jackie returned. Apparently, while Lovey had been held captive, Diabla had stolen her discovery and led Jackie out to the silver killing machine. Oh, that self-righteous little... she'd pay.

The humans followed the Doctor out of the house. Lovey, at last released, gave the preening Diabla a hiss that conveyed all the horrible things she had to look forward to when she least expected it, then stalked off to keep an eye on events from the front doorway.

Stupid cat. 

Lovey got a good show of a panicking Doctor running in and out of the house, but things quickly settled down after that. The Doctor was taking all the credit for figuring out the silver killing machine, and snuggling disgustingly comfortably with Rose.

Purely out of spite, Lovey went for his ankle.

Lucky for him, her heart wasn't really in it, and she allowed Rose to carry her off the porch and deposit her in her favorite patch of garden. However, Lovey didn't stray far. She sidled up as close to the house as she could get, and listened with rapt attention as Rose asked, "Why can't I tell Mum?"

Oh, this should be good.

* * *

The Doctor smiled to himself despite Rose's disappointment, knowing that she only wanted to share her happiness with Jackie. However, after the mess of these past few weeks, the Doctor wasn't exactly feeling generous towards the woman - Jackie, not Rose.

Not now that he'd discovered the cause of all (well, most) of their frustration.

He looked towards the doorway to make sure Jackie wasn't lurking. Then, reluctantly pulling his hand free from Rose's, he reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve the locket and envelope.

He withdrew the will, setting the envelope and locket on the swing beside him. "This is why," the Doctor told Rose at last, unfolding the document, and flipping to the appropriate clause.  He handed it to Rose, and watched her expressions shift along with the quickly changing moods he sensed across their link as she read.

When she finished, he could feel her astonishment, along with a dash of anger and just a pinch of amusement.

"Then, Jack was right," she said quietly, as she refolded the will. "She really was tryin' to get us together... and what? Tryin' to catch us in bed or somethin'? So she could make us get married?"

"That's it, as far as I can see," the Doctor answered her.

"An' she thought that pretendin' to be insane would do it?" Rose asked, still astonished.

"Well, I said that was her plan. I didn't say it was a good plan," said the Doctor.

Rose laughed slightly. "But it worked," she said looking coyly up at him.

"I beg your pardon!" the Doctor said, sitting up straighter. "Do you seriously think the only reason I -" he glanced at the doorway again and lowered his voice. "You think I only asked because of your Mum?" he demanded.

Rose didn't answer in words, but instead smiled, and took advantage of their link to send him all her feelings to the contrary. 

"Good," the Doctor answered, gently.

"But still," Rose said, sitting back herself, and tapping the will against her knee. "What kind of a stupid clause is that, really? I've gotta be married by twenty-five or I lose it all? I mean, I don't even need it, not with livin' with you, but Mum could use it. What was Uncle Mortimer thinkin'?"

Movement from the doorway caught the Doctor's eye, but he relaxed, seeing it was only Diabla.

To his surprise, she walked over to the swing, leapt up beside him, nudged the locket out of the way, and pawed at the envelope.

Picking it up, the Doctor realized there was another, folded sheet of paper still inside.

* * *

_Gee, I just can't seem to write anymore. We'll have to wait for Wednesday's update to find out what it's all about :)_


	28. That Darn Cat!

_A/N: Wednesday update here. Sorry it's not your regularly-scheduled author. Vacation with no computer happened, and therefore we had an author switcharound. I'm very grateful to everybody else in this insane round robin, and really want to thank them. This'll be the last chapter you'll see from **Isis the Sphinx**, I think, I'm a bit confused on this whole thing. Bit out of the loop, you see._

_Disclaimer: Hey, looky! I have the paper that says we own Doctor Who! I found it! *Waves paper around in the air*_

_------Reaper appears out of nowhere, eats the paper, and returns to its hole------_

_***The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, Jessa L'Rynn, Kathryn Shadow, NewDrWhoFan, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, SilverWolf7 **and I all blink*_

_Isis: You planned that, didn't you? It's somehow a time paradox that we have that paper._

_Tenth Doctor: Yup._

* * *

**__**

**_Chapter 28: That Darn Cat!_**

_Picking it up, the Doctor realized there was another, folded sheet of paper still inside._

He reached inside the envelope, grabbed it, pulled it out, and accidentally dropped it. Right into the clutches of Lovey.

Lovey was waiting for exactly this moment, when she knew the not-human human would drop the every so important piece of paper. She picked it up in her mouth, and chomped on it, hard. There were now quite a few bite holes in that piece of paper. Lovey had all her teeth still. She then made off like a bandito with the sheriff on her tail.

The Doctor and Rose, surprised, though they shouldn't have been, were speechless for a moment. Then,

"Jack, catch that darn cat!"

Jack in the yard, saw the Lovey-blur going by, and chased after her. Behind Jack was the Doctor and Rose. Behind them was Gwen and Ianto. If Jack was chasing after a cat, then maybe it was important.

Lovey led them all on a wild goose chase. 'Round the rose bushes like they were a maze, back into the household and through each of the rooms, going under as much furniture as she possibly could. Ianto tripped over a misplaced sofa. Lovey went in two circles around the sunroom, and then out the back door. She headed then for the shed, disappeared from everyone's sight for a moment then made a mad dash for the TARDIS.

Surprisingly, the TARDIS let her in. But didn't let her get past the console room. All the doors shut with a resounding 'snik'. Lovey searched for a way out, but couldn't find one. Even when Rose, the Doctor and Jack came in, she couldn't get by them.

Jack tackled Lovey, pried the folded up piece of paper out of her mouth, and handed it to Rose. He then released Lovey, who decided to chew on his ankle. With a vengeance.

* * *

_Yes, short. But entertaining. And Jessa, I screwed up the display pic. Didn't think it'd turn out the way it did. Feel free to replace with whatever you want. Enjoy the next chapter, folks. Isis is signing out!_


	29. Tying Knots

_**The Chibi's Are Stalking Me**, **Kathryn Shadow**, **NewDrWhoFan**, **Olfactory-Ventriloquism**, **SilverWolf7**, **Isis the Sphinx**, and **Jessa L'Rynn** (Hey, that's MY name) do not own the good Doctor. TCASM owns chibis thereof, Kathryn owns Bad Wolf ideas thereof, NDWF owns AUs thereof, SilverWolf7 owns the cleverest torture ever thereof, Isis owns moments of insanity thereof, OV and I own Joshua thereof but, no matter how we put all these legos together, they still won't make a picture that gives us ownership of Doctor Who. If anyone finds out what we're doing wrong, please let us know ASAP as Tennant has gotten away and we need to seize the show before they hire someone... not good._

_Next to the last chapter, here, folks. Written by yours, truly (or yours, truly insane, anyway) Jessa L'Rynn._

* * *

**_Chapter 29: Tying Knots_**

Around the puncture holes from the hell cat's teeth, Rose read:

_"My Dearest Rose,_

_You will have either met the terms of the will before you ever knew about it, or will have reached your 24th birthday without having done so. This letter is to clear things up for you before you reach the critical 25th._

_As I write this letter, we have never met. I have been long estranged from the family, and I don't blame you in any way for this, as I worked very hard to become a crotchety old man whom no one would want to come visit. Nevertheless, I want you to know that I have loved you since you were born._

_My wife Rosa and I had one child, and I lost them both that day. For a long time, I tried to shut my life off from the world as a result. When I heard about you, though... it was more than a small miracle to me, just to know you existed. I resolved there and then to provide for you as I would have done for my own child. _

_The reason for the terms is simple. Rosa called me a hopeless romantic. I told her at the time that I was a hopeful romantic. That is one character trait even becoming an dreadful old geezer has not taken from me. I want you to marry for love, and be happy in the love you have chosen. I do not want you to have to marry someone who does not love you and is interested only in your money, which is why you were to remain unaware. The final copy of my will - which is not the one your mother or even my lawyers have seen yet - is appended to this letter - it states if you do not wish to marry by the time you are 25, you may, instead, simply collect your inheritance._

_I always liked to think of you as the child we never had, though I suppose you would be more a grandchild, given your age. Nevertheless, the money is yours, and I understand it has stacked up over the years. You may do with it what you wish. I do not recommend gifting it to the RSPCA - Lovey will probably take over the world some day and should not be given financial backing, as it will only encourage her. _

_I hope you have found the love of your life and that this letter is coming to you with the money as a wedding present. I hope he is a good man who will care for you and love you as you deserve all your life. Use the money to to buy a house, or use it to travel the world, or use it to help others. Have an adventure with it, whatever adventure you wish to have, and walk through your life with your love, hand in hand. Cherish every moment you have together because there is never a guarantee of 'happily ever after' in this life - only 'happily now'. _

_Rosa's locket should be with this letter. I never saw what she kept in it, but to me it was a symbol of all my love. I now send all my love to you, Rose, and wish you all the very best in life, and all the love you ever wished for on any star._

_Your loving Uncle,_

_Mortimer Prentice"_

Rose looked up from the letter and brushed tears back from her eyes. "I like that," she said. "Happily now."

The Doctor, of course, had read the letter quickly in one quick glance, his Time Lord mind, operating, as usual, at light speed. "Morty," he told the empty air, "I could have used this advice years ago."

"What're you trying to say, Doctor?" Rose asked softly, hesitantly.

"I was a goner when I met you," he confessed, honestly.

They'd forgotten Jack was even there until Jack slapped the back of the Doctor's head. "Duh!" he announced.

"Ow!" the Doctor exclaimed, rounding on the Captain with an injured expression. "What was that for?"

"I've wanted to do it for over 200 years," Jack said, simply. Then, he walked off, hands in his pockets, whistling.

"Don't tell Mum," Rose shouted after him.

"Why not?" the Doctor asked, looking quite hurt. "Seems the easiest thing, now, you know?"

"No, the easiest thing would have been for her to just ask us how we felt. Or asked you, or asked me. Acting like she'd lost her mind? She scared me to death and, personally, I think she's got a bad day coming on."

"Rose Tyler, you are a vindictive little minx," he announced, sounding completely awed.

"And?"

"And I like it," he answered in a dark, husky tone. He kissed her softly, and then grinned wickedly. "Now, how do you want to play this?"

* * *

When the sun finally set, the Doctor, Jack, and Jack's team rounded up the Alien Ice Box of Unpleasant Adjectives. They took it out into the middle of the lawn, well away from the rose bushes, the water supply, and the house. Then, they watered down everything around it, and the Doctor set the self-destruct with the sonic screwdriver. All the cold it had been radiating abruptly reversed itself and the thing heated up, combusted, and quietly reduced itself to powder, which Jack then watered down just to be sure.

They'd already ret-conned the crews of workers. There was nothing left now but to deal with the bodies. And the locket.

"Why the locket?" asked Rose while they stood in the garden. Jack and his crew were handling the gruesome bits, but the Doctor and Rose had this to do and it seemed extremely personal to them both.

"If I'm right," the Doctor began in his 'arrogance-r-us' tone, "and, let's be honest, I always am, the so-called Box of Doom has been subtly powering something kept in the locket."

Rose stuck her tongue out at him, then dodged away from him when he tried to chase it. They sobered quickly, though, when the locket sparkled in the starlight overhead. "Uncle Mortimer," the Doctor called, "you might want to be here for this."

The ghost appeared, faint but still very definitely there. The Doctor smiled at him, but it wasn't his gentle, sad smile that made the ghost smile back. Rather, it was the look of love and affection, the gleaming tears in Rose's eyes, that caused the ghost to brighten. "Thank you," both the Time Lord and his future bride said.

The ghost of Mortimer Prentice tilted his head in silent acknowledgment and mouthed a 'thank you' back at them.

"Are you ready?" the Doctor asked.

Mortimer nodded.

Rose opened the locket. There, inside the locket, was a tiny, pretty crystal. Rose looked at it and thought she would have picked it up and put it in there herself, really, so it didn't seem a stretch to her that her Aunt Rosa had done. "What is it?" she asked.

"A Meesultin crystal, what the powder I mentioned before comes from. It'd take me years to work out the calculations on how this worked. But it did. Faith and trust and pixie dust, I guess." The Doctor smiled softly and placed the locket neatly into a new opened blossom on the nearest rose bush. Then, he lifted his sonic screwdriver. "If there is an afterlife," he said, "I hope you find yourself with your Rosa." He twitched the controls and the ghost immediately began to fade.

There was a small hum that gradually increased in volume and the tiny crystal still sitting in the locket began to vibrate. Then, suddenly but quietly, it detonated, scattering sparkling dust all over the rose bush the locket rested in. The locket bounced once and tumbled to the ground.

The Doctor waited for the dust to settle, then picked up the locket and handed it to Rose. "Won't this cause more problems?" she asked.

"No. It has to be ingested in large quantities or, like it seems to have done, gradually infuse the house for ages. He's gone now, free, and this little bit of dust won't cause anybody any problems. Are you ready to go tackle Jack's lot?"

Rose nodded slowly. In truth, she would rather find some room in the TARDIS that no one else could possibly find and finally get on with resolving all the tension they kept building up. But, she decided, it would have to wait. It didn't matter, really, if they left everyone else and hid the TARDIS in a Universe that couldn't be accessed except by TARDIS, in the mood Jackie was in, she would _still_ manage to catch them somehow and Rose wasn't giving her mother that satisfaction. She took the Doctor's hand and went over to see about getting Torchwood to "shunt off".

In the end, however, the Rift beat them to it. Jack sent his team back to Cardiff to keep whatever had turned up company and promised to come back himself before they left. Rose hugged him tight and he bundled his crew into the two SUVs and made Owen drive the refrigerated truck he'd rented for the transport of the bodies. Gwen complained that Rhys would not like this, whoever Rhys was, and Rose resolved to herself to find that out later.

She remembered very well who Gwen reminded her of, but there'd be time later to find out why. She had a crazy mum to cure, permanently, after all.

* * *

Jackie snarled as she wandered into the TARDIS kitchen the next morning. The Doctor was standing there in flannel jim-jam bottoms and a dressing gown. He snarked amiably back at her, made tea, and shoved the pot in her general direction.

"Is Rose up yet?" she asked him grumpily.

"I don't know," he said. "I knocked on her door, but she didn't answer, so I assume she was in the shower, but she might be indulging in a lie-in.

Jackie glowered at him.

He put on his most innocent face and blinked at her. "What?"

"You knocked on her door," she accused. It couldn't be considered anything less than an accusation. It certainly wasn't an observation, nor was it the relieved statement of a mother who was delighted to hear that her daughter wasn't sleeping with a 900-year-old alien.

"Yes," he said, cheerfully. "She has her own room, Jackie. This ship is huge, you don't honestly think I make her sleep in the console room?" Jackie continued to glower at him, so he shrugged. "Well, you can put it out of your mind, Jackie. Your daughter has her own room and her own snug little bed on my ship. It's her home, you know, and I want her happy here."

Now, Jackie blinked at him in confusion. "Her... home?" Jackie said.

"Well, she's lived here for two years, I thought... she has the key and everything, you know. Did she tell you, I even let her bring pets? Jack's one of her pretty boys, actually. But I absolutely drew the line when she wanted to bring a whole harem of blokes, too much fuss and I'd probably have to clean up after them. Anyway, get some tea in you, you're looking peaky. Rose was in the mood for a movie day, doesn't that sound like fun?"

He walked out of the room, singing some song he'd heard on Rose's MP3 player the last time he'd "borrowed" it. _"...'Cause today has been the best day, everything I ever dreamed..."_

* * *

Rose had gone to a lot of trouble to pick the most romantic movies she could find. Any time Jackie looked back at them, the Doctor was making puppy dog eyes at Rose and Rose was, seemingly, ignoring him.

Wasn't true. They had a mental connection, now, so she could ignore him physically, when what he was doing to her in their heads made her too dizzy to move. Jackie seemed to get more and more agitated and, when the Doctor suggested a break for lunch, Jackie pounced on the idea like Lovey on something she was told not to touch.

They retreated to the kitchen, where the Doctor proceeded to flirt outrageously with Rose and Rose proceeded to pretend like she was smiling and laughing at a little kid. Really, she was doing exactly what she had always done, before because she was afraid that he didn't feel the same way she did, now because she knew they both felt the same: that her mum had a really stressful day coming.

However, he was really, really trying her control.

For one thing, he was eating marmalade from the jar again. Actually, he wasn't eating the marmalade, he was seducing it. Or his fingers. Or both.

Of course, he kept burning, bedroom eyes on Rose the entire time he did this. Plus, just to make sure she learned something useful, he was showing her, inside her head, in excruciatingly exquisite detail, the other definition of sublimation.

Rose stubbornly ate her chips. Jackie gaped at her.

Then the Doctor went on to molesting a peach. Most people could eat one. He, apparently, could not. Rose wanted to hurl her mum out into the Vortex and lick all the juice off of him. She firmly told herself that he would have to put them in the Vortex for her to do that, and therefore he would have to stop what he was doing. The vision was too gorgeous to interrupt.

Jackie muttered something that sounded like "gold sour", but stayed all the same, staring holes into Rose's head. Rose drank her Coke and didn't have to remind herself that she was welcome to take the peach's place at any time, because the Doctor's voice in her head made that abundantly clear.

Rose giggled and teased the Doctor that pears were even juicier than peaches.

He got up and went to the fridge. "Does he like fruit?" Jackie demanded quietly.

"What?" Rose asked, because she was distracted by the Doctor's bum as he bent over to do his rummaging. "Yeah, he always eats it like that. He's such a kid, sometimes, makes a complete mess."

Jackie looked like she really, really wanted to explain something to Rose. "Always?" she asked. "Even in public?"

"No," Rose answered. "S'only when we're here, dunno why. Usually behaves himself in public. Although, gotta tell you, him and ice cream and a beach - that's a mess no matter how you look at it."

"Does he have an oral fictation or something?" Jackie muttered.

Rose shrugged. Her mum had gotten the word wrong, so she didn't have to lie when she said, "Nah, can't be, can it?"

Jackie slapped a hand over her face and muttered something about killing Mickey Smith for some reason. Rose hid her snicker with a cough.

The Doctor came back to the table with a bowl of cherries. Rose wondered where they had gotten cherries. They were dark, deep red, these cherries, and very nearly as large as plums.

"What are you doing?" Jackie asked him.

"Eating cherries," he replied. "You want one?" He passed the bowl over, and Rose helped herself. Jackie looked at him dubiously.

"Is this some sort of weird alien ritual, eating like that?"

The Doctor blinked at her. "Not really, I mean, I just enjoy my food. You would, too, if you'd ever lived at Prydon Academy. Food tablets and gruel." He made a sour face and stuck his tongue out. "Nasty."

Then, he stuck a cherry into his mouth. Three seconds later, he spat the pit onto a napkin. Five seconds after that, he reached up and took the stem out of his mouth, sitting it neatly next to the pit.

There was a knot in it.

A month ago, Rose would have jumped him at this point, no matter what her brain might have tried to say on the subject. Knowledge that she could find out how he did that later was absolutely the only thing holding her in her chair. He grabbed another cherry. Another pit joined the first. Another stem came out, tucked neatly between his teeth.

This one had a double knot in it.

The Doctor grinned and proudly displayed it between two fingers. "See, now, that's impressive," he observed.

Rose, though her mouth was dry, managed to toss out a very sarcastic, "You think."

"Right," said Jackie. "Doctor, can you give us a moment?" He shrugged, took his cherries, and sauntered off.

"What, Mum?" Rose asked innocently.

Jackie leaned close to her and spoke, swiftly and furiously, "That man - that alien - is coming on to you, Rose Marion Tyler, and I cannot believe that you can't see it."

"Don't be ridiculous, Mum," Rose said. "Like you said, he's an alien, he don't know what he's doing. He's just showing off."

"Showing off?!" Jackie exclaimed incredulously. "Showing off would be trying, Rose. He tied a double knot into a cherry stem. Don't you know anything?!"

Rose sniffed and straightened herself proudly in her chair. "You're just being silly, Mum."

Jackie jumped up from her chair. "Right," she exclaimed, "that does it." She caught Rose's arm and half led, half dragged, her daughter out into the hall. Halfway down the corridor, she found the Doctor, leaning against a wall, with a cherry stem tied into an alarmingly complex knot hanging out of his mouth. Jackie ignored this and grabbed him by the arm. She then proceeded to drag them both toward the console room.

"What'd we do?" he asked in a stage whisper.

"Dunno," Rose answered at the same volume.

"Right," said Jackie, once they got to the console room. She released their arms and glowered at them both, hands on her hips. "I want you both off this planet. Doctor, you're ruddy insane, and you've driven my daughter just as barking mad as you are. It's obvious that this stupid thing is never going to work, so go on, get out of here, go back to traveling or back to Glasgow or whatever it is you really do when you're not trying to make me as crazy as you are."

"Jackie?" the Doctor said calmingly, "did we do something wrong?"

"Everything!" she shouted and started pacing furiously. "I was so sure. I was certain, but obviously neither one of you even know a damn thing about the opposite sex. Rose, I gave you the talk, I know I did. Did I forget to tell you how to tell when a man wants sex? It's easy, Rose. If he's breathing, he wants it. There, now that's done. What about you, you stubborn alien git? Do you not have the right equipment or something? Some reason my daughter's got it into her head that a man making bedroom eyes at her is joking?"

"Um?" they both said, looking at each other in carefully constructed confusion. The Doctor was actually looking over her right shoulder. Rose was chewing on her lip.

"All you had to do, one little thing, and that's get caught. Then, this would all be easy, but no, you two have to be either so damn good at sneaking around that someone could be in the room with you and not know, or you've just spent the past two years staring at each other like lemons. Why can't you shag against a wall like normal, healthy people your age? All right, your apparent age, her age?"

"You... you want us..." Rose broke off because if she didn't, she was going to explode with laughter.

"Yes, because then I could catch you and then you would have to get married and you'd be rich and I would never have to worry about you being taken care of in the future."

Rose looked at the Doctor. He reached into his pocket, handed over the long anticipated box with a quick, subtle gesture. "Married?" Rose asked, calmly. "Well, yeah, 'course we're getting married. That's what two people in love do, don't they?" She opened the box, slipped the ring onto her finger, and held her hand up for her mother to see.

Jackie shrieked and, much to their amazement, fainted.

"Well, that's good," the Doctor said. Then, he leaned over, pulled something out of a pocket, and waved it under Jackie's nose. Jackie made a face, coughed and sputtered and, gasping, came to, still glowering at him. He jumped back out of slapping range. "Honestly, Jackie, if you just wanted us married, you should have said something." He rolled his eyes. "Rose and I've been married since... oh, about a month after I met her. Give or take."

"What!!" Jackie shrieked.

The Doctor looked from her, to Rose, back to Jackie. "What?" he asked innocently.

Rose stared at her fiance, or, apparently, her husband. All of this... madness, wanting, waiting, trying, tempting... It thundered out of her in a single syllable. "WHAT?!?!?!"

* * *


	30. Getting In, Getting Out

_**The Chibi's Are Stalking Me,** **Isis the Sphinx**, **Jessa L'Rynn,** **Kathryn Shadow**, **NewDrWhoFan**, **Olfactory-Ventriloquism** and **SilverWolf7** would like to thank all the people who have been reading this story. Unfortunately this is the last chapter, but it has been a blast and lots of fun to write. Hope you enjoy this._

_SilverWolf7 would also like to apologise for the lateness of said last chapter, as she was too busy sleeping away Friday to post. Sorry about that people._

* * *

**_Chapter 30: Getting In, Getting Out_**

"WHAT?!"

The Doctor looked at her with a look of confusion that was by no means faked; she could feel the emotion through their link, along with some rather involved ritual they had gone through on a planet about two galaxies away, just after the whole Dalek fiasco. Well, the first Dalek fiasco.

That had been a time when Adam hadn't been ready to step off ship and had stayed inside sulking about the scariness of it all. Rose was sorry she had decided to let him on board.

"What do you mean we're already married? You didn't bother telling me that."

Her mum, who looked like she was about to faint again at the news, decided now would be a good time to start mumbling insanely to herself and move out of the room to give them a bit of privacy to have the talk. Shouting match if she had any say in it.

"I...I thought that..."

"That I knew about some alien ritual custom thing on a planet that I hadn't even heard of by a people I had never seen before? Oh, yeah, OF COURSE I KNEW!"

He shifted slightly, one hand going up to tug at an ear, the other rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. "Um. No, suppose not. Sorry."

Crossing her arms under her chest she glared at him. If looks could kill he'd have to get ready for another regeneration. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

The Doctor looked at her and let his eyes fall back to the floor. "Yes?" he said, making it a question, not an answer.

Rose, filled with frustration like he could not believe, lifted her hand and slapped him harder than her mum ever could. He ran away from her then, to go lick his wounds. And he had better stay away until she'd calmed down a bit or he'll never get the red mark off his face.

How could he hide something like that from her?

She had been married at the age 19, and he hadn't even bothered telling her they had tied the knot. The knot of marriage that is, she still couldn't stop seeing those cherry stalks. The one tied in so many knots she's amazed it didn't fall apart made her feel weak at the knees. She would love for him to put that tongue of his, and the rest of his oral fixation to good use on her...

Mental images filled her head again, and she groaned loudly in frustration, and ran off after him. She needed to know why he hadn't bothered telling her after all.

* * *

The Doctor, afraid of another famous Tyler slap had fled for his life to his room. He couldn't go inside though, because he knew that Rose would be looking for him soon enough. He had left her a bit of a gift in the form of a severely tied cherry stalk, and a few visions of what exactly he'd like to do to her involving his mouth.

She'd been thinking of both since she had seen that stalk. Constantly. It was putting him in one very awkward position that involved a hasty retreat and a rather silly looking walk. Well, for what it's worth, he was just as frustrated as she was, except she didn't have...he looked down and scowled.

"Bloody hell, sometimes I hate being male..." he murmured to himself, and leaned against the door to his room, waiting.

He didn't have to wait for very long before Rose showed up, face red from everything but the run it had taken to find him. She stopped a few feet in front of him, her eyes raked over his form, stopping at a few key points, and he watched as she smirked.

"Alright, married to you, why didn't you tell me? Cause you aren't going to ever get the chance to consummate it if you don't tell me right now."

It wasn't true. Well, he hoped it wasn't. If it was, he would just go disappear into a hole and not come out for a hundred years or so. By then he may have calmed down enough, and she wouldn't...well, maybe not. He'd rather have Rose around him all the time until then.

"It isn't by rights really...officially registered in this galaxy. Not even off that planet. But since we've been married so many times by now already, they kind of all void each other out. There's only one type of marriage you would ever consider real, and that's one from your own planet, with your mum and friends and a white wedding and all that nice...stuff that human females like when they get married, especially if they happen to live on Earth."

She blinked at him and he went for the door handle to get away from the look in her eyes.

"More than once?"

He shrugged. "I get married accidentally all the time. Sometimes I don't know what is happening until after the deed is done, sometimes I do. Yet again, I've been married to Jack as well, and Sarah Jane, and...and nearly every single other companion I've ever travelled with. The weddings involving triumvirates are rather interesting. Remind me to tell you of Jamie and Zoe sometime..."

She glared even harder at him, and he wished he could disappear inside, but knew she'd just follow him even if he managed to get in and lock his door. It seemed the TARDIS would let her in. "Threesomes too..."

He blinked. "Well, you've been involved in three yourself. Twice involving Jack, and once involving Mickey. So, technically, you're married to them two as well."

She blinked and relaxed a bit at hearing that. Good thing it was the truth then.

"So...I'm married to both Mickey and Jack? As well as you? Anyone else I'm married too?"

"Not you, no."

She wasn't angry at him anymore, he could tell that. Her anger had just melted away at knowing that sometimes it happened while travelling with him, even if he didn't really like the person he was getting hitched to. She giggled at him slightly. "You and Mickey, huh? Wonder what he'd think of that?"

"Who cares? There's only one marriage that I have wanted to be real, and that girl is standing in front of me right...now...what are you doing?"

Rose raised herself back to her feet, stood on her tip toes and kissed him long and hard against his door, the handle forgotten about entirely, even though it was almost digging into his back. He was too busy trying to move forward into the warmth of the woman in front of him who was doing things with her hands.

She pulled away slightly, grinned at him, and a picture of her own flashed through his head and he pulled her up, turned them around and kissed her just as fully as she had him.

"I think...that we can just get this over with now, yes? Because I have wanted you for _so_ long."

"Oh god, _yes_!"

"Doctor, not god," he muttered against her mouth, as she worked at his buttons, while he went about nibbling on her neck in a few important spots that would end up letting everyone know exactly what they had done, if not the place.

* * *

Giving them time to talk had been a good thing, Jackie thought as she moved aimlessly around the huge insides of the TARDIS. It seemed every time she tried to get to the bedroom she had been given, another room seemed to take the place of where she was sure it should have been, then she'd be back in the console room, and flashing lights seemed to indicate she should go in a certain direction.

She'd never followed a set of lights before in her life, which is why she didn't drive too often.

It took her five times of being herded back to the console room before she threw her hands in the air. "Alright! Fine, I'll go there, you silly ship...just stop flashing the lights and choose another way..."

The lights got brighter instead, lighting the way much more clearly and with a little less irritation. Rolling her eyes, she followed the bright lights down the corridor until she found the Doctor and Rose. Against a wall.

Well, better late than never she supposed.

She turned around and fled, going into the nearest room she found. Oddly, it was her bedroom.

She decided she would like the TARDIS if it wasn't busy playing silly buggers with her.

* * *

They stayed in the ship for a few days.

Jackie barely saw the Doctor or Rose, and depending on where the TARDIS decided to put her bedroom that day, she was happily ignorant of exactly what they were doing to each other.

Sometimes she wished that her room was on the other side of the ship.

Rose could be quite loud when she was with him.

The Doctor on the other hand barely made a sound. It was a nice change for him.

Too bad it seemed the only way to shut him up.

Now they were all in the console room, while the Doctor bounced around the controls, flicking switches and winking at her whenever he had a good enough view of her eyes. "So! How about getting out of this place, which probably won't be standing up for much longer and go back to the Powell Estate? I can make it to just after we left last time...the furniture might be lost, but you can always get new stuff. Personally, I like the flat a lot better than that house. And I can give you some money for furniture shopping. Then again, there is Rose's inheritance now. Pretty sure she won't mind you borrowing some of that. So! How about it Jackie? Home?"

She nodded. "God yeah, home sounds good, even if it is just a small two bedroom flat on a council estate. Anything's better than that house. With those cats..."

The Doctor shuddered. "Yeah. Diabla was alright, but that Lovey. Apart from being very clever, that cat will probably have to be stopped sometimes in the near future. Or it will try to take over the world. Hmm, world dominated by a race of cats, heh, remind you of anything Rose?"

Her smile faded. "Oh, Doctor! I have to go back though. My pictures and photos of Rose growing up are there! I can't leave them behind..."

He stopped his mad dance around the controls of his ship, frowned and nodded. "Well, we haven't taken off yet, so better go and hurry then."

She hurried off the ship and back to the mad house, into the bedroom she had found the locket, and grabbed all the photos in there she had unpacked. The others were all pictures of Rose as she was now, and she could get plenty more of those, though she did salvage the one picture she had of the old Doctor, for a keepsake.

She was back on the ship half an hour later, the photos of Rose's childhood all safe and sound with her.

"There, I'm ready. You can take me home now," she said, smiling at him, like it was some great adventure to go back to the tiny flat she had lived for the past 20 or so years.

With a wide grin, which more than hinted at the madness he carried inside him, he threw a switch and the TARDIS bounced (literally too) into life, and that familiar noise filled the air as she was taken from one place to another.

She hoped he was taking her back to the estates.

With a frown she said to him what she had said when she had gotten on board as he had taken her to the house in the first place, and hoped it wasn't that which brought the bad luck in a flight. "We better not land on Mars, or I'll kill you!"

One thing was for certain though. She'd never ask the Doctor to do domestic again. It ended up being rather disastrous.

* * *


	31. Epic Epilogue

_**The Chibi's Are Stalking Me,** **Isis the Sphinx**, **Jessa L'Rynn,** **Kathryn Shadow**, **NewDrWhoFan**, **Olfactory-Ventriloquism** and **SilverWolf7 **would like to invite you to read and enjoy this conclusion to the joint frolic that is "I Miss My Mind the Most". The good news is that everyone's had a hand in this one._

_The bad news is that we don't own Doctor Who... still._

* * *

_**The Epic Epilogue**_

It took most of the following month, but Jack and the team from Torchwood Three were finally finishing storage of the worldly possessions of Mortimer Prentice. Jackie had decided to keep Diabla with her, as the cat was sweet-natured, harmless, and stupid. Lovey was in a cage on Jack's desk, as Owen still hadn't gotten around to examining her for alien DNA. The Doctor had already agreed that, if she proved to be free of any weird influences, he would set her down on an uninhabited planet well away from any sort of space lanes. However, if her DNA was dangerous, she was Jack's problem.

How that last part had jumped into the plan, Jack wasn't sure. Possibly it was somewhere between Rose's far-too-innocent smile and the Doctor's rant about how cats were nice and all until some scientist had figured out a way to transfer DNA to some species of aliens and made humanoid cats; Jack had tuned him out somewhere after the first five minutes.

Actually, that might be why he hadn't noticed when his keeping of Lovey snuck into the deal.

Hm.

Lisa wiped a handkerchief across her face. "Ianto is such a lucky bastard," she complained. "He got to sit on his bum planning the wedding while the rest of us did all the dirty work."

"Such a lovely bum, though," Jack said, winking at her outrageously.

"Not the point," she complained, but she did almost smile.

"Sounds like Ianto is sleeping on the couch," Owen commented dryly, stuffing another box of priceless knick knacks up onto a shelf with an audible crunch.

"Ianto can sleep on my couch," Jack offered cheerfully.

"Only if he wants to sleep on your couch for the rest of his life," Lisa replied.

"You can have the bed," Jack wheedled. Then, as if he'd had a brilliant idea, he continued, enthusiastically, "In fact, we can all share. Conserve body heat."

"Bet that'd be the only thing you'd conserve," Gwen muttered darkly.

"I'd save some for you," Jack shot back. "There's plenty of me to go around."

"Don't do it," said the Doctor, entering with the very last box balanced precariously on his shoulder. "Start dividing him up and all the bits would probably grow back a new Jack like a hydra. One is more than enough."

"You're just jealous of my suspenders, Doc," Jack teased.

They'd gotten whatever the issue was between them out of the way earlier in the month, when they'd gone to a gym together and, according to witnesses, thrown each other around it for five and a half hours. After that, they'd come back to the Hub laughing – and slightly intoxicated – and arm in arm like the best of friends. Rose had sobbed and thrown herself into hugging paroxysms with both of them, and then slapped them both. So that was all over now.

The Doctor lowered his box, and handed it off easily to Owen, who collapsed, swearing, under the weight of it. The Doctor walked outside, hands in his pockets, whistling. "How the hell does the skinny bastard do that?" Owen grumbled.

"Don't be mean to the Doctor," Gwen protested. "He's been great help around the Hub. He got rid of that glove and knife, and you remember what he said that could do to someone's head."

"Yeah, some 'Danger to the Crown' he turned out to be," Owen agreed grudgingly.

Lisa smiled out at the Doctor, who was playing hopscotch on the pavement in front of the storage shed. "Oh yeah, right menacing alien threat, he is."

Owen snorted. "I'm a damn sight more terrified of his mother-in-law."

Jack stuck his head back in the storage bay. "Aren't we all," he agreed devoutly. "C'mon boy and girls, time to lock this down and get back to planning for security."

"I don't see why we can't just _go_ to the wedding," Lisa complained. "Why do we have to work, Jack? It's such a small event and there's only a half-dozen civvies on the guest list. Everyone else is with UNIT, for pity's sake. His best man's Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart! He's famous!"

"Yeah, Jack," Owen agreed. "And why aren't you his best man, anyway?"

Jack glanced warily out at the Doctor. "If you must know, it's because he really is a dangerous person. Not in himself, just things follow him. I want to be prepared for anything from jilted ex-lovers – for either of them – all the way up to full-scale invasion fleets. There's no telling what might show up to see the Oncoming Storm properly domesticated. Now can we go? I still have the cat from hell and those Tribble things on my desk, and the wedding's just hours away."

"Not 'til you tell us why you're not best man," Gwen said, teasingly.

"Would you believe they fought over which one of them got me?" he asked cheekily.

"Yeah," said Owen, and then fell into very bad voice impressions. "'You take him!' 'No, you do it!'"

"Very funny," Jack complained.

"You're not leaving 'til you tell us," Lisa told him. "And I have the keys."

"Because the Church of England ordained me in 1897," Jack finally admitted, to the wonder and terror of all. "I'm conducting the ceremony."

Gwen gaped at him and shook her head. "I'm converting to Catholicism," she decided.

* * *

Jackie Tyler had to admit that that young Ianto bloke had really outdone himself on the wedding plans, as she walked around the small chapel and smiled. He'd been given such crap instruction from the bride and the groom, and Jackie hadn't felt much like helping at first since she'd firmly believed it to be her prerogative to plan her only child's wedding. It was only that charming Jack reminding her that she couldn't properly enjoy the wedding if she had to oversee every single detail (not to mention listen to her impending alien son-in-law babble) that had finally calmed her down.

Rose's only rules of absolutely no pink and keeping the roses down to a civilized number had been obeyed exquisitely. Presumably, the Doctor's requests had also been honored but, as far as Jackie knew, all the giddy lunatic had clearly stated was that he wanted no pears anywhere near the building or the reception. Honestly, the Doctor seemed unreasonably happy about all of this: as long as he would come out the other side married to Rose Tyler, he seemed willing to put up with anything.

They'd invited Mo and Bev, and Keisha and Shireen were going to be Rose's bridesmaids. A couple of cousins, Rose's gran, and a couple more old friends of Rose's rounded out the bride's side. The Doctor's crowd was just as small. There were fewer people actually attending this wedding, now Jackie thought about it, than had attended hers.

The TARDIS arrived just as Jackie was completing her final inspection, ready to put her stamp of approval on everything. She immediately found something she was not putting her stamp of approval on. Two somethings, in fact.

"No," she said to the Doctor.

He turned around and looked at her. "What is a two letter word meaning 'negation'?" he suggested. Apparently, he'd been watching quiz shows with Rose at the new flat (it was a new flat, since she was now too well off to be allowed space on Council Estates, so she'd had to find one a ffew blocks over. It didn't seem like a problem, really, what with having no plumbing issues and anything that did crop up was the super's problem, not hers.)

"No," she repeated. "No, that blue box is not sitting inside for the wedding, and no, do not even pretend that you are not trying to sneak a pair of trainers into the dressing room to wear with that tux."

"I'd never," the Doctor said indignantly. He turned to Jack, who had come out of the TARDIS behind the Doctor, carrying a box that seemed to contain a random assortment of small objects. "Jack, tell her I would never sneak a pair of trainers into the dressing room."

"Of course he wouldn't, Jackie, don't worry," Jack said charmingly. Then, grinning at the Doctor, he added, "He'd have to sneak at least two pair, in case you found the first."

Jackie shrieked indignantly. The Doctor dropped his garment bag over the back of a chair and ran for his life.

By the time Jackie had given up and come back, she found he'd snuck around her and was leaning against the podium, snogging her daughter. Jackie rolled her eyes. And to think there was a time she'd worried.

She turned around, found the TARDIS still sitting there, and went to tell the groom-to-be to move it before everyone showed up to rehearse. She wasn't explaining the thing, she just wasn't.

"She wants to see everything," Rose protested, while the Doctor obediently went to move the ship back out onto the street. "She can watch through Her monitors, but She says She's worked really hard for this and She wants to see it through." Rose leaned in close and confided, softly, "I think She's afraid he'll manage to break his neck right before the ceremony or something."

"If he tries to wear trainers with that tux, _I'll_ break his neck," Jackie replied.

The Doctor came back inside, dusting his hands off, and accompanied by a regal-looking, slightly portly, older gentleman. Jackie hurried after Rose to be introduced.

She decided not to argue - just for the rehearsal, though, mind - when the ship reappeared again five minutes after Ianto arrived with his ream of notes.

* * *

Rose smiled fetchingly at the older gentleman, and the Doctor had to curb a strong desire to return to what he'd been doing before Jackie had ordered him to move the TARDIS, despite his suspicion that it would be futile. Not that kissing Rose would be futile, not even a little, although trying to kiss her in front of Jackie might be. But trying to get the TARDIS to do something when She wanted to do something else? He might as well try to get Jack to behave.

"Pleased to meet you… what should I call you?" asked Rose. "Mr. Lethbridge-Stewart is a bit of a mouthful."

"Call me the Brigadier," he told her with an amused smile. "Most people do."

"The Doctor and the Brigadier? No wonder you're such good friends," Rose said dryly. The Brigadier inclined his head towards her in a mischievous parody of a bow. Jackie hustled up, a picture of indignation.

"Will you please tell him," she demanded of the Brigadier as she gestured at the Doctor, "that he can't wear trainers with a tux at his own wedding?"

"Mum," Rose said exasperatedly. "It is, as you pointed out, his own wedding. Let him wear what he wants." Rose felt the Doctor point out in her head that he wanted to wear his normal suit, but Rose quite firmly, if silently, insisted he wear the tux. _"I'm going to have far too much fun peeling you out of it to allow you to not wear it,"_ she thought at him with a few choice images. His protests fell silent.

"I don't care!" Jackie was exclaiming. "It's disrespectful." She turned to the Brigadier. "He's known you for ages. Tell him he can't!"

"I wouldn't presume to tell the Doctor that he can't do something," he said calmly. Jackie stared at him with a face resembling a halibut before storming off.

* * *

Lovey stared at the back of the lock that secured her prison. She could reach to turn the dial, but didn't know the combination since the numbers were out of her sight. The infernal hum of all the enticing equipment kept her from hearing the tumblers align.

She'd watched the fuzzy creatures locked up across from her be taken out and put back again several times for tests, and knew their combination. But she didn't know her own, a lamentable fact.

She growled in frustration. One of the fuzzies looked over at her in amicable concern and chirruped a query. This was the first time any of them had expressed anything but hunger. The humans never fed them, she'd noticed, though they fed her regularly.

With hope, Lovey asked the creatures if they'd seen the humans lock her up. The amicable one purred an affirmative. After that, it was merely a matter of obtaining the right leverage to jog the creature's memory, and Lovey already knew the offer of food would get her everywhere.

Promising them freedom and the ability to find all the food they wanted soon had Lovey turning her lock to their directions. It popped open with a satisfying click. A paw batted the door open soundlessly. Although she wasn't a cat of her word, Lovey was a cat who adored chaos. She imagined that releasing the fuzzies would cause the abhorred humans (who had locked her up and talked baby talk at her when feeding her) untold trouble. So she opened their cage before padding off, plotting revenge against the man in the brown suit who'd done this too her.

The creatures she abandoned blinked at freedom in confusion. The one who'd freed them got food frequently, they knew. By silent consensus, they tumbled after her.

* * *

The wedding party was gathered around a table that reminded Jack of his meetings at the Hub. He smirked at the table.

"The bride and groom have prepared their own vows, which they've chosen to keep secret from us all until the actual ceremony."

Jackie glared suspiciously at her daughter and the Doctor, fairly certain that this was either a scheme to give her a stroke from nervousness or to make a mockery of the institution. Probably both. Rose ignored her pointed stare, and the Doctor countered it with a cocky grin.

If she were fair, Jackie would admit that she sympathized with the TARDIS' fear that he would manage to botch this up. But she still wasn't letting that thing in the chapel.

She didn't know if it was out of a fear that the Doctor would do a runner, even though everything had already been planned and so well thought out by Ianto, or if it was because it was a box that would just be standing there like an unsightly lump of blue.

Well, she wondered, maybe she could somehow paint the TARDIS pink… then it would be going against the strictly no pink rule Rose had, and it would be left outside for sure.

* * *

With all the planning he had put into the wedding, Ianto had decided to let the rest of them slug out the little nuances that were left like, for instance, the trainers or no trainers thing the Doctor and Jackie had going on. Personally, if the Doctor was brave enough to go against Jackie and her rather scary slapping hands, then more power to him, but he should know not to go anywhere near his soon-to-be mother-in-law afterwards.

Stretching in his seat at the table, Jack to his left and Lisa on his right, he felt right at home. He had just planned a small-scale wedding, was sandwiched between two people he decidedly liked, if not loved, and he had met new and wonderfully odd people. Like the Brigadier. For a man getting on in years now, there was something about that man, human though he was, that screamed out 'I will blow you and your army up if you bug me too much'.

Ianto had thought he was retired by now. It was possible he was wrong. All he knew was that the Brigadier was rather friendly with the Doctor. Apparently the two of them had known each other for a long time in both their lifespans.

"Ianto, maybe you should tell Jackie that it's alright for trainers to be wor—"

Rolling his eyes skyward, Ianto covered his ears with his hands. "I refuse to be brought into this silly fight between you and Jackie, Doctor. Go ask Gwen or Tosh. They would know more than me."

The Doctor pouted, though the Time Lord swore he didn't. He really had a thing for those trainers.

Getting up from the chair he was sitting in, Ianto wandered off to see if everything else was in order, for the third time that day. Seeing that all was going smoothly was about the only thing lately that would give him some peace.

* * *

"Is it really that bad?" the Doctor asked Rose, after most of the others had left the table to take up their stations for the rehearsal proper.

"No," she replied, hugging him close. "You know my mum. You know how she feels about it. Just… maybe you should try to do something for her."

The Doctor began sulking, which wasn't the best look on him, and it made her want to giggle and kiss the look off his face. So she did. Well, the one good thing to have come out of that house was her and the Doctor's relationship. And Jack and the Doctor being friends again. And the wedding of course. Her wedding. No other wedding could be better than hers. On Earth. Using customs she was at least rather likely to recognize.

She hadn't realized she had been married so many times to the Doctor already.

"Can I watch?" Jack asked, as he came up behind them, leaning slightly on her shoulder and more heavily on the Doctor. She unlocked her lips from her soon-to-be real husband and grinned.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Captain Jack?"

"Why yes, yes I would," Jack replied, grinning winningly at her.

"Jack, stop flirting with my bride, please," the Doctor said, before grinning back and winking. "What happened to me?"

Jack kissed him like he had done on Satellite Five, before turning to Rose and doing the same. "Have fun kids. Rehearsal starts in ten. I'll leave you two to it."

With that said, Jack got up and walked, very slowly, out the door. One eye was on them the entire time.

"Well, that's Jack for you," she said, grinning up at the Doctor, who smiled back down at her.

"Yep! Now, ten minutes… where were we?"

* * *

Jackie paced back and forth, muttering to herself as she waited for Rose in the bride's room. "Honestly, trainers! Who wears trainers with a suit? Nobody with a brain, that's who! Then that TARDIS of his, wanting to be part of the ceremony; a big blue police box sitting in the middle of the room, that's not gonna cause problems! Now Lovey's out of her cage, an—" She stopped.

Yes, just down the hall, was Lovey, walking calmly across the hallway. As Jackie watched, about a dozen strange, fuzzy puffball things bounced and rolled behind the cat. Lovey paused in the middle of the hall to look at her, and Jackie could have sworn the little hellcat smirked at her before continuing on down the other hall and around the corner.

Jackie stood staring at the spot they'd been a moment ago, before spinning around and running back the way she'd come. "Doctor!"

Keisha and Shireen were left alone in the room, understandably quite lost.

* * *

The Doctor and Rose were still mid-snogging session when Jackie came running around the corner, huffing and puffing. Unlike Rose, Jackie was not used to running for her life, or anyone else's. Completely out of breath, Jackie began to gesture and point behind her in a most worried and agitated manner, trying to get the point across without words. This made absolutely no sense to Rose and the Doctor, who just looked at her blankly.

"Mum! Breathe, then talk."

Jackie took a few deep breaths, then, "Lovey's out!"

The Doctor did a double take. "What?"

"You heard me!"

"What?"

"Did you go daft after that last snog?" she snapped at him. "The rehearsal's s'posed to start any minute, the guests'll be here for the wedding in less than two hours, and Lovey's out! '_The most dangerous cat in the whole universe_', as you put it, has escaped!"

* * *

"HARKNESS!"

Jack almost knocked the podium over, where he stood going over the ceremony instructions. It had been quite some time since he'd heard that particular tone of voice from the Time Lord. In fact, he was fairly certain it hadn't been since his previous regeneration...

His musings were cut short when the Doctor stormed into the room, a breathless Rose and Jackie close on his heels. "Anything I can do for you Doc?" Jack asked, trying to tell himself he wasn't shaking in his boots.

"Why, when I know you were clearly instructed to lock it up, is that devil-cat loose and wandering around this very building?" the Doctor demanded, stopping only inches from Jack's face.

"Lovey?" Jack asked, blinking.

"No," Jackie put in unhelpfully, "the _other_ cat from hell. Of course it's Lovey!"

Ianto and the Brigadier chose that moment to make their appearance, unsurprisingly considering the rehearsal was supposed to be getting underway.

"Ianto," Jack called, hopping down from the podium and evading the Doctor's rather fiery glare. "Take over for me, will you? Seems we've got a bit of a cat problem." He gave Ianto a falsely reassuring pat on the back, ignoring his gobsmacked expression, while summoning the rest of the Torchwood team to his aid.

* * *

Jackie nodded to herself as she watched Jack leave, thinking he had the right idea. "Alright," she said, taking Rose's arm and leading her back towards the bride's room. "Now that's sorted, it's time for the rehearsal."

Rose was dragging her feet. She looked back towards the Doctor, asking, "Shouldn't we go and help catch Lovey?"

Before the alien could answer, Jackie rounded on him. "Absolutely not!" she announced, staring the Doctor in the eye, keeping a firm grip on Rose. "Jack's people'll catch the cat. This rehearsal is going as planned. This wedding is going as planned. Any questions?"

No questions.

"Good!" She stormed out of the room, Rose following close behind.

* * *

Lisa and Owen had paired off to search the north half of the building, while Gwen was following Jack through the main hallway on the south side. So far, there had been no indications of the meanacing feline.

"Jack," she whispered, weapon drawn as she peered into another empty room.

"Yeah?" he answered in a whisper of his own.

"I know this cat's a bit of a bother and all," she said, "but do we really need to be this concerned about it?" she said, indicating her firearm.

Jack didn't give any answer, except to pull an extra weapon from his belt and continue the search.

Gwen sighed, but stopped short as she peered into the next room. "Um, Jack?"

"What now?" he asked, but stopped next to her as he, too, took in the sight before them.

The pizzas that had been ordered for the rehearsal-ees before the wedding were arranged on a buffet table, but most of the boxes had already been opened. Huddled inside the boxes that still had food left, were the happily chirruping Tribble things.

"Lovey," Jack muttered, and Gwen could have sworn the word came out as a curse.

* * *

Jack holstered his weapons, and dragged the nearest empty covered trash bin over towards the table. "Gimme a hand," he ordered over his shoulder to Gwen, who was still standing in the doorway.

"What're you doing?" she asked.

"Rounding up the Tribbles," he told her, unceremoniously dumping four of the little critters out of their pizza box and into the bin.

"I still don't see what's so terrible about these things," Gwen said as she dumped another three out of a box with half a pizza left. "They were just hungry, and no wonder since you wouldn't let us feed them."

Jack reached into the bin, retrieving the half a pizza that Gwen had dumped in with the furballs. "I have my reasons," he told her with a pointed look as he tossed the pizza into an empty box. "Didn't you ever watch Star Trek?" he asked as he scooped up another handful of aliens.

As they finished with the Tribbles, Jack moved to cover the bin, then stopped. "There were twelve in the cage, right?" he asked, counting the puffballs.

"Yeah," Gwen told him. "We got them all."

"And then some. There are fourteen here," Jack told her.

* * *

Lovey was in evil-feline heaven.

She'd known she'd hit the jackpot when the pizzas had been delivered. It was just the thing to get those bothersome fuzzies off her tail, and throw a little extra disruption into the festivities. Now, she was free to roam the building at her leisure, devising the most ingenious way of getting back at the brown-suited humanish man. And, maybe, she could take over the world while she was at it.

Lovey sniffed at an open doorway, detecting the scent of the pink and yellow human, and made her way inside. There before her was a gleaming white dress, all covered in shiny bits and beads and lace.

She preened.

* * *

Jack was getting more and more worried with each step he and Gwen took.

His plan, as far as it went, was to bring the Tribbles to the Doctor, and let him sort them out. Maybe there was a room in the TARDIS where they could hide them.

Unfortunately, exactly as he had feared, the bin was getting heavier and heavier as they went. The Tribbles were multiplying.

"Just like Star Trek," he muttered under his breath as they gave up carrying the bin and set to dragging it along the hallway.

* * *

Ianto was just getting to the part about pronouncing them man and wife (Jackie had insisted that they stick with "man" for the sake of Rose's guests), and the Doctor was wondering if he dared snog Rose good and proper in front of her mum when he reached the "kiss the bride" part. It was just a rehearsal, after all.

However, his musings were interrupted by Jack and the rest of his team entering the hall.

"Oh, now what?" demanded Jackie. "Did you get the cat?"

Lisa and Owen shook their heads, looking at Jack. Gwen looked at Jack. The Doctor looked at Jack. "Well?" he asked, just as impatiently as Jackie.

"No, but we've got another problem," Jack answered quickly. "It's the Tribbles," he said, kicking the bin and eliciting a chorus of squeaks from within.

"They're not 'Tribbles'," the Doctor corrected automatically. "I've already told you, they're perare perpetuo." Honestly, how many times did people need to be told?

"Well, they sure are acting like Tribbles," Jack said. The lid to the bin suddenly shuddered, and Jack leaned his weight on it to hold it down.

"You didn't feed them..." the Doctor began.

"No, but they got themselves good and fed anyway," Jack answered.

"Lovey," the Doctor cursed. "Alright, everyone split up and find that cat!" he ordered, moving to step down from in front of Ianto.

However, Jackie was standing in his path in a flash. "Not yet, you don't!" she countermanded. Then, lookining to Ianto she asked, "That's the end, right?"

"Just about," he answered her.

"Alright," she said. "Wedding party exits properly first, then we find the cat."

The Doctor sighed as he followed her directions. Offering Rose his arm, he was at least glad they'd be the first ones out of the hall.

* * *

Lovey considered the dress for a further moment, but turned away. That was just too good. It would have to wait. Besides, the chances were that someone would expect her to go for something that big instantly; she would continue to work her destruction, but she would just be a little subtler first.

She padded to the still-cracked door, flicking her tail delicately as she glanced around for a moment to make sure nobody was there. They weren't, and she continued, going along the hall in a sort of lazily speedy lope which would have screamed "suspicious" to anyone who had the misfortune of knowing her (not that any action of hers would not be labeled thus). The closest thing the cat could feel to fear descended over her in a cloud of dark mauve as she passed into an area in which the humanish creature's oddly alien scent unmistakably traced the air, but her fur settled quickly enough that, had anyone been there to see, they would have discounted her alarm as an illusion. It was stale; she was not about to get caught yet. She had merely passed into yet another good place for her revenge to take place, and one that was distinctly less obvious. Shoes, yes; shoes would be a much better place to start. And that pair in the middle of the floor would be absolutely impossible for the creatures to miss.

The fact that they weren't those horrible canvas things her claws got stuck in, but rather a soft, almost deliciously scratchable leather, was just a bonus.

* * *

The Doctor managed to maintain the fastest pace he thought would be acceptable to the maternal unit watching his every move until he got out the door. At that very moment, he dropped Rose's arm in favor of her hand and took off running. He was dimly aware, from his companion's rapid backwards glance, that the aforementioned unit had thrown her hands up in a gesture of defeat instead of chasing them down, and a giddy sort of relief went through him. He giggled and then stopped as he caught a deathly chorus of squeaking noises from around the corner.

He skidded, managing to stop awkwardly, and then turned the corner. Quietly. Carefully. He didn't need to scare those things; their sole defense mechanisms were fleeing for their lives and reproduction. He didn't want the first, certainly didn't want the second. A single perare perpetuo could transform into hundreds in a day - less than a day. Especially after a feast such as the devilcat had given them.

"Lovey," he muttered.

Rose, who had found herself situated behind the Doctor, attempted to peer around him. She couldn't see any Tribbles from that angle, couldn't hear the faint noises that attuned her Time Lord to the little creatures' location, but she knew through the connection that pulsed happily between them that they were there. She maneuvered around him, trying to hack into the part of his brain that was cataloguing his senses while trying to ignore the bits about her.

Unfortunately, not having the near-infinite multitasking capabilities of the Doctor's irritatingly efficient brain, she could not do this and walk at the same time. She stumbled a little bit, and at least twenty Tribbles...

_They're not Tribbles._

...darted out from their hiding place and scattered in all directions.

Rose cursed imaginatively and ran after them.

* * *

Ianto didn't see the cat. He didn't need to.

He had started to follow the general chase, as soon as he had extracted Jackie's permission to do so, but a thought descended on him, a dark, horrible thought filled with terror and sixteen types of evil. And with that thought came a deep shadow of fear that clotted his blood as if someone had injected him with felt. And with that intravenous felt there came the deep knowledge that someone had to save the day and nobody else knew to do it, just as from that knowledge there sprang a little feeling of being very heroic, in his own slightly diffident way.

At any rate, he knew exactly where to find Lovey. And he would be the one to stop her before it was too late.

* * *

Jack came into view and instantly regretted it.

The Doctor had Tribbles in his hands and a look of pure murder in his eyes. Rose was running, apparently aimlessly, until she abruptly changed direction for the fifth time and barreled past him in pursuit of a pair of small, brown, furry creatures.

He should have known, really. When the last of the Time Lords - or anyone, for that matter - said his name in that particular way with that particular volume, it didn't mean he should run towards it. It meant he should dart back to his hole under Cardiff and curl, whimpering, under the nearest desk. But he was Jack Harkness and his immortality had taken away such self-preserving instincts and replaced them with the vague, almost distracted interest over what it was that was trying to kill him now.

Unfortunately, the last of the Time Lords did not want to kill him. He knew far worse methods of torture, and they both knew it; and this was what made the immortal truly wish he hadn't come to see what was going on now. He shouldn't have.

"Harkness," growled the Doctor again, "I don't know how or why these creatures got loose, but I'm willing to bet it's all your fault."

He really shouldn't have.

* * *

Rose came skidding back around the corner with the little furry creature in her hands and unceremoniously tried to hand it to the Doctor. He gave her a disbelieving look and she turned around, plopping the creature into Jack's grasp instead.

"Damned Tribbles multiplied again before I managed to catch them," she gasped. "There's more over there…"

"They're not Tribbles," explained the Doctor exasperatedly - very patiently, actually, considering the state of his thoughts at the moment. "They're perare perpetuo."

"That's like lupine wavelength whatsits, yeah?" asked Rose. "Means it lives in the blood and is a wolf, yeah?"

The Doctor nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"Which pretty much means werewolf, which it was." She grinned at him and he knew he was going to lose this round. "And perare perpetuo means what?"

"Always pregnant."

"Tribble," said Rose, firmly, and nodded with conviction.

Jack grinned. The Doctor smacked the back of the immortal's head and they all three ran after another tumbling pile of fuzzballs.

* * *

"Fan out," ordered the Brigadier, his voice heard everywhere. "Surround them, then herd them to the center of this room. Sergeant Benton?"

John Benton, having just entered the chapel, and long since given up being a Sergeant, nevertheless found himself responding to that voice like the last twenty years hadn't happened. "Sir?"

"Tribbles," the Brigadier explained.

"Yes, sir," said John and joined the team of annoyed looking young people, beginning to point them out to positions in a standard reconnaissance pattern.

* * *

Sarah Jane Smith, still trying to decide if she was going to sit on the bride's side or the groom's, kept hold of her young son's hand as they entered the chapel. Almost immediately, she realized that coming early had been a very good idea... or possibly a very, very bad one. She could already hear the Brigadier's authoritative voice ringing out over the crowded room, and knew there was trouble afoot.

She turned to the two additional youngsters who had accompanied her. "Right, Clyde, Maria, you two stay with the Brigadier - that's the man giving orders. Luke and I will go find the Doctor."

"I'm right here," the Doctor shouted from somewhere that sounded like he was under the piano. "Just close the door, don't let them out."

"Them what, Doctor?" asked Sarah Jane.

Something small and fuzzy went tumbling across the room and Rose went chasing after it.

"Tribbles," said Rose.

"So they are," said Sarah Jane, deciding then and there that she had, in fact, _finally_ seen_ everything._

* * *

Shireen and Keisha had been sent out by Jack to collect a quick takeaway for everyone to replace the lost pizzas. Ianto had disappeared, apparently to handle some last minute arrangements. Everyone else had spread out as the Brigadier ordered, Jack laughing heartily about this as he found himself following before he even thought.

Such was the authority and presence of the man that only the Doctor seemed to be able to do anything but exactly what the Brigadier said immediately when he said it. This time, though, even the Doctor wasn't trying to do otherwise. They had every Tribble in the building crowding slowly into the center of the main hall of the chapel.

There wasn't a way for them to escape from the circle around them, which included Torchwood, two UNIT officers, a handful of children, the legendary Sarah Jane Smith, Bride, Groom, and an infuriated Jackie Tyler.

The Doctor had the sonic screwdriver out and was scanning to make sure they'd gotten them all. The pile was getting larger by the second and Jack was worried. "Well, Doc?" he asked.

"That's the lot," the Doctor said.

"Fine, but what do we do with them?"

The TARDIS materialized right into the center of the circle, then dematerialized. There were no Tribbles left in the circle, just a spot of bare flooring.

"Did you do that?" Jackie demanded in astonishment.

"No," said the Doctor. "Oh, you clever Girl!"

Rose laughed. "She took 'em, then?"

"Yep," the Doctor replied. "Probably has them in a storage room until we can drop them home."

Jack grinned. "Fantastic!"

Rose bounced on her toes and hugged him, then proceeded to hug her way around the circle, including the children, whom she hadn't even formally met yet. Jack smiled after her, trying to remember what exactly it was that still had the small hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Everything seemed fine, but there was something he couldn't remember.

The TARDIS rematerialized in Her usual corner. Jackie shrieked in fury and stormed up to the box, but stopped and laughed herself silly halfway there. Covered in decorations and huge banners that read, "Just Married," the TARDIS stood there and flashed Her light innocently at them.

From the doorway, there came another shriek. "Did that box just... appear?" Shireen demanded.

"Don't be silly," Rose said, distractingly. "How can anything just appear somewhere? C'mon, what'd you get, I'm starved."

* * *

They were all seated at a table, chattering and laughing and sharing introductions, passing the takeaway cartons around when Lisa suddenly asked, "Where's Ianto?"

Rose looked around and the Doctor exclaimed, "Lovey!"

"My DRESS!" Rose wailed, and dashed towards the bride's changing room.

* * *

Ianto Jones looked like he had been through a war. Rose's dress was hanging from a light fixture in the ceiling. The train was missing and the hem frayed. Rose was swearing incoherently and shrieking blue murder.

The Doctor looked the dress over carefully. Except that the dress was now floor length instead of likely to trail after Rose for a good half-mile, the damage had been minimized by the quick thinking young man. It looked like it had cost Ianto dearly. His usually immaculate suit coat was covered in black and white cat fur. His hands were bleeding from numerous scratches, and his trousers had been shredded in several places.

"Right," said the Doctor, "Ianto Jones, I owe you a trip to anywhere or anywhen in Universe you want to go. You are brilliant, and you saved the day."

"We still have to catch the cat, sir," Ianto said, softly.

"We'll handle that," the Doctor promised gently. "Jack, Dr. Harper, I'd like you to get the hero of the hour fixed up - the Med Bay should be fine for that. And the wardrobe should have a replacement for his suit."

"My dress," Rose whimpered, looking at the hem of her gown in dismay.

The Doctor soothed her with a gentle thought that she would look just as lovely to him in a bin bag. Or nothing at all, he wasn't going to be fussy. She still glowered a bit, but the glower softened when he took her hand and patted it comfortingly.

When Jackie turned up and wailed over the train of the dress, too, though, the Doctor turned the sonic screwdriver onto setting 6888 (hems hems) and fixed the now shorter gown with a few flicks. It seemed to appease his mother-in-law (or would-be mother-in-law, if they could ever round up this damn cat and get on with this. He could hardly wait to be married to Rose. Forever. Her forever, anyway, and that was going to be the most wonderful time of his life.)

"Right," the Doctor said, rounding on everyone present. "Catch that cat. Oh, and Brigadier?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Try not to shoot her."

"Yes, Doctor."

Only the Brigadier heard the Doctor grumble, as he walked by, "You don't have to try too hard, though."

* * *

"She mauled my shoes!" the Doctor yelped. "She..." He sputtered and then swore, rapidly and colorfully, in so many languages that even Rose had trouble keeping up.

"It's all right," she gentled him.

"She mauled my shoes, Rose!" he yelped indignantly. "I found them, I was going to wear them, they're bad and hideous and all sorts of other uncomfortable things, but Jackie said I had to wear them, wouldn't take no for an answer. Might think she didn't even know the word, your mum, but she uses it on me all the time. So I said 'I should wear trainers' and she said, 'no, you have got to wear proper shoes,' and I didn't want to, but I was gonna do it anyway and what happens? That CAT!"

"Just shut up and wear your trainers," the woman snapped.

The Doctor, holding a well-destroyed black dress shoe between his two fingers blinked at her mum in astonishment. "Really?" he asked, and a slow grin spread over his face.

"Yes, really," said a thoroughly defeated and exasperated Jackie Tyler. "Just wear your trainers with your tux, stand up there, say your lines, and marry my daughter before the world comes to an end or something!"

"Brilliant," the Doctor announced brightly.

"We still have to catch Lovey," Rose reminded him.

He nodded and then sniffed. "Right. Catching the cat. Allons-y."

* * *

Lovey hissed and backed into the corner. They couldn't understand her, of course, this crowd of people who had chased her everywhere and finally herded her into a room where she could no longer escape. However, that didn't stop her from promising to dismember them all. She devoutly assured them that she was going to murder them all in their beds when a sudden, strange sensation overtook her.

Her already puffed out tail grew three sizes as every single hair on her small furry body stood on end.

* * *

"I'm going to put you in the freezer," Jack told the hissing, spitting, screeching cat they had finally managed to back into a corner. "I just want you to know that I'm putting you there and I am NEVER going to defrost you. At the end of eternity, it'll be just you and me and that freezer, and I promise you, I'll still gloat."

"Jack," the Doctor cautioned.

"What?" he grumbled. She'd actually managed to _kill_ him. Ran around his legs and tangled him up so much that he'd fallen into the power box. A _cat _had killed him. The indignity of it was enough that he was sorely tempted to just pull out his revolver and off her and who gave a damn what anyone thought.

Every hair on the back of his neck stood up. Jack shook it off. He knew that sensation meant something, but it didn't matter. The cat mattered. He was going to rid the world of the terrible influence of Lovey the Hell-spawned Devil Cat. He stepped forward.

"Jack!" the Doctor shouted, and snagged his arm.

There was a sudden, vivid light. Everyone in the crowd who had cornered the cat yelped.

"The Rift!" Tosh shouted. "Jack, it..."

"...took the cat," Jack realized, gloomily, as he looked at the empty place where Lovey had been.

Rose and the Doctor looked at each other in horror.

"Bet she comes back with an army," the Doctor said, sounding quite worried.

Rose shook her head. "Bet she becomes a nun."

The Doctor groaned. "That would explain so much."

* * *

"But we'll want to do our vows," Rose complained.

"You can do them at the reception," Jackie insisted.

"But..." the Doctor objected.

"No, seriously, Doc," Jack agreed. "Just... repeat after me for the ceremony, all right?"

"Why?" the couple demanded together.

"Because if we give you even five seconds for anything else to go wrong," said Jackie, "the whole bloody world will explode or something an' we're not having it. You're getting married, and you're doing it right now."

"Yes, Mum," they both said.

Jackie beamed and patted them both on their cheeks. Then, as if it was an after thought, she added, "Oh, and Jack and the Brigadier both have shoot-to-kill orders if anyone objects."

"Isn't that going a bit too far?" Rose asked, faintly.

In answer, Jackie just glowered and hustled her off to change.

* * *

Radiant on her mother's arm, Rose Tyler walked up the aisle as quickly as she could get away with it. From the podium, Jack smiled down at her. And before the podium, eyes dark and bright and beautiful, the Doctor waited, a smile on his face, his feet and hands twitching, his love for her brilliantly displayed for all the world to see.

Jack was talking, but Rose didn't care. Her mother lifted her veil and settled it around her, and handed her off to the Doctor.

"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" Jack asked.

Her mother, smiling like she'd always meant for this to happen, for them to end up here and like this, announced proudly, "I do."

The ceremony went on and then Jack came to the section for objections. Rose didn't expect anything at all, not really, even though her nightmares for the past month had had everything from the Emperor of the Daleks to future versions of the Doctor turning up at this point. Everyone in the know heaved a sigh of relief when Jack went on to the next part after hardly pausing for breath.

She said, "I Do," proudly, and the Doctor said it with tears in his eyes. He smiled through his tears and waggled his eyebrows over, "in sickness and in health," as his mind added, "_and regenerations,_" silently. Rose teared up, too, when she promised, "'til death do us part."

They were in love and they belonged together. Forever had its time, just like everything else.

When Jack declared them man and wife, her mother lead the applause. And when Jack ordered the Doctor to kiss his bride, he complied without hesitation, kissing her like she was life itself.

The TARDIS-forged link between them flared dramatically to life, swirling time and memories and hopes and dreams all through the pair of them. It tilted, shifted, and then the ancient Time-ship stepped out. Between them, though, the link remained.

When they separated at last from the kiss, they were married in the eyes of her world and by the laws of his eldritch race, lost forever to time and surviving only in him. And maybe, someday, in their children.

Jack beamed his most compelling smile at the crowd. He introduced them the first time by their married name - silly thing, really, but they had to have it for the Earth documentation, so they were Dr. and Mrs. Tyler-Smith.

Rose shook her head as the recessional played. She was Rose Tyler and he was the Doctor and they were married, for real, at last, and for keeps.

And that? That was fantastic.

* * *

"I didn't plan to make a speech," the Doctor said. "But everyone knows a lack of a plan has never stopped me."

"Not to mention you love to hear yourself talk," Jack and the Brigadier both said, dryly. The two men looked at each other and laughed like old friends.

"And that," the Doctor agreed, wryly. "Since circumstances worked out this way," he continued, "Rose and I had planned to give our own vows in the ceremony, but a couple of things happened. Well, I say a couple. I mean a few. Well, actually, it was more... fifty things, and a cat."

"Especially the cat," Rose agreed.

The guests who hadn't been present for the cat looked confused. The rest just laughed. It was funny, now, but _only_ now. Now that it was over.

The Doctor took Rose's hand and they stood side by side. "I will love you for the rest of my life," the Doctor told her.

"And I will love you forever," she answered, her tongue poking out through her grin.

The Doctor was tempted to just forget the rest of this and go somewhere to consummate this marriage. Several consummations, actually. That seemed to be a good idea. Just in case.

Still, they had actually practiced this. They knew what they were doing and, really, it needed to be done.

"Whether that's ninety years," he continued.

"Or nine hundred." Her eyes were sparkling and she looked like temptation in soft white lace.

"No matter what you look like," they continued together.

"Big ears or big hair," she said with a wink.

"Young or old," he added, though oddly, in his mind's eye, he could only see her looking exactly as she did today. Maybe that was because they had bound their time lines together and he could no longer see her future, or maybe it was because he would always see this precious girl in his wife no matter what Time did to her.

"No matter what happens between us," their joint vow continued.

"Running for our lives," she said happily.

"Domestics," he complained cheerfully.

"I am yours and you are mine," they both continued.

"From the moment you took my hand," Rose told him.

"Until even Time itself is gone," the Doctor concluded.

The crowd applauded for them as their lips met in a tender, vow-sealing kiss. Jackie brushed tears out of her eyes even as she complained vigorously that those were the most ridiculous vows she'd ever heard.

After that, there was cake with edible ball-bearings, and some lawyers with money, and signing some papers with Jack, and quite a few photographs. And then there was managing to escape the shower of bird seed and bubbles only by running for the TARDIS instead of the limo Ianto had arranged for them. They opened the doors and turned to wave their farewells, and She dumped a great cloud of seeds and soap bubbles down on them anyway.

Rose tossed her bouquet over her shoulder and it exploded into a shower of smaller ribbon-wrapped bundles of flowers. Jackie, Sarah Jane, Keisha, Gwen, and Tosh all ended up with one. Shireen pointedly ignored the one that had landed at her feet. Maria, Sarah Jane's friend, snatched it up, and then had to explain the whole thing to Luke.

The Doctor snatched Rose up and carried her inside. While she giggled and squealed and demanded to be put down, he kicked the door closed behind them.

"They've got to come out of there sooner or later," Shireen said, staring at the blue box, obviously firmly believing that right up until the second a great wind went whipping across the room.

Jack shook his head and sent Owen after the ret-con.

* * *

They stood hand in hand on the lawn in front of the house where all this had finally worked itself out.

"S'not a great house," Rose said softly. "Not really."

"No," the Doctor agreed. "But it makes a great story."

Rose laughed. "So, honeymoon?" she asked.

"Barcelona?" he offered. "Not the..."

"City!" they both exclaimed. "The planet!"

Hand in hand, where they had always belonged, Rose Tyler and the Doctor returned to their home and to the stars.

* * *

The house stood by itself against the Welsh moorland. It had stood for thirty years, and might stand for thirty more... Might. Inside, everything was rubbish, but could possibly be fixed by someone with vast resources, a lot of money, and all the time in the world.

And none who left there left alone.

* * *

_The end._


End file.
